Devil's Dance
by T.L. Arens
Summary: G1 A malevolent virus infects the Matrix. Terrifying, inexplicable phenomena imperil cities Fortress Maximus and Central City as Optimus and Rodimus Prime lose their sanity. And there is no known cure. R
1. Hallucinations

AUTHOR'S NOTE PLEASE READ: This fic is rated-R for emotional, physical and psychological violence, language and disturbing imagery. Read with caution and do not read this story all at once. This fic is neither for children nor the mentally-timid. Special thanks goes to my pen pals/beta readers- Elaine, and Phoenix. Thanx, guys, you're all heroes! A very special and sincere thank you goes first to Jayd-'She who is my strength and endurance when I have none. And to Bre. I was not going to write this, but she gave me the courage to try. No money is being made off this venture; all copyrights belong to Hasbro/Takara (c) 1984/1987.

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 1

HALLUCINATIONS

"Have you ever danced with the Devil by the pale moonlight?"  
The Joker  
From Batman: the Movie, 1989

Earth Date: October, 2037

Optimus sat at his desk in the dead of night. His monitor and fourteen digipads waited his attention. Other than their tiny LCD screens and his own optics, no light penetrated the dark room. Optimus did not want to be seen by anyone right now. The darkness comforted him because he could hide here, or so his senses told him.

It was a lie, of course.

He had not recharged in nine days. He dreaded the chasms of sleep because

because

Because

Because he was a coward and refused to face the Dark.

Coward.

COWARD!

COME!

The damned digipads were talking to him again and Optimus turned his back on them all.

COME! DANCE! DANCE! DANCE, TRA-LA-LA!

Prime faced them, though none of them moved. They were playing games with him. Digipads don't really talk, not really. But he fancied they sometimes did. They must complain a lot, he thought. They were impatient, always impatient. But he did not feel like working right now. Prime left his desk and stared out his window.

His own chronometer ticked at three-thirty A.M. Prime rested his forehead against the window pane. Down there buzzed all kinds of people; Autobots, Humans and a few aliens, going merrily about their business so heedless.

He returned to his desk and instead of a pile of digipads and office furniture, Optimus faced a group of five Decepticons, sitting 'proper' in chairs. He shook his head. "Do you think I'd make a good Decepticon?"

The first 'Con, a white and silver space-faring jet, crossed his powerful arms, his face cold and dour. "What do you think?"

Optimus turned back to the window. "I should not have survived. But I did."

"You're confusing reality with unreality. You still think you're some superhero. The Quint-"

"Don't say it." Prime warned brusquely. He swung back around and faced the digipads again. "IF I catch you saying it one more time, I'll have to execute you for treason."

One of the digipads smiled at him (well, not really, but Optimus fancied it was because it lay crooked atop three other pads). "THIS CAN'T GO ON. SOONER OR LATER SOMEONE WILL FIND OUT ABOUT THE VOICES. THEY'LL KNOW ABOUT ALL THE STRANGE THINGS YOU'VE SEEN IN THE LAST TWO WEEKS; THE WALLS REFLECTING IMAGES, THE SOUNDS AND THE ALIEN THAT DISAPPEARS AND COMES BACK. THEY'LL FIND OUT AND THEY'LL COME AND THEY'LL KILL YOU."

"I Am Not Afraid To Die."

He returned to his seat, but movement came slow as if he were walking in high gravity or water. Prime stared at the opened digipads that mocked his laziness. Not now! Not now! He absolutely HAD to get caught up! Prime shook his head.

He just could not work.

The bedlam of emotions clamored in a ceaseless motion like the currents of the endless ocean tides.

No rest.

No rest because all the bad, useless emotions resurfaced. He'd push them down and they'd come right back. Bad. Bad. Bad. But Optimus Prime played this well. He tucked the evil away and simply remained the same somber Autobot leader everyone was accustomed to.

After all, grief and illness were a sign of weakness and that was something he could not afford. Prime nursed his private agony with promises he made to himself (and later broke). He soothed his personal turmoil with one accomplishment after another, year after year. He built other fortress cities in other countries and encouraged other Autobots to take part in a new growing society.

But the ever-present depression rubbed his consciousness raw with regretful death wishes. Over and over his mind replayed a moment of bliss-going 'home' disrupted by a slimy darkness. Evil called him back from happiness. Evil wrought of greed and lust raped him of final, eternal joy.

But as always, Optimus accepted this as he had all other fates: with the hope that something good would come of it. He counted the blessings of seeing his people well cared-for. Assurance that life moved on without him comforted his worries. And then the kind darkness of death retook him and he was more than glad to leave a body frozen in cold pain. He was glad to leave a mind damaged by the corrupted Quintesson Lords.

But even that was interrupted. They called him back once more. This time, he stayed.

This time the torment he suffered during the first 'awakening' did not lift. It turned inward. It turned ugly.

And the Matrix reflected it like a mirror.

A shadow passed in the office. Optimus pretended it was not there. He did not want it to know that he knew. He kept staring into empty space. The shadow flitted from one dark corner of the room to the other, always watching him so closely. It waited, he knew, for the right moment to attack.

Attack me, now, he thought. Be swift and sure so that I can die again. Swift and sure!

It was ugly. No, not the imaginary shadow, his turmoil. It hurt, his heart hurt. He had no energy and remained unwilling to say anything. Oh, what could anyone do for him, anyway? What leader in his right mind would dare admit he was a weakling coward by saying his mind was not right?

The ugliness turned to filth and Optimus lived with it every day. Every day. He buried his pain deep down. He buried it so far deep that he believed himself able to feel things other than grief. He felt good, he felt hope again. He believed in goodness once more.

But the wound still lay open, bleeding and painful.

And a faceless Darkness touched it.

Faceless Darkness tasted it.

Delicious. Sweet.

The Faceless Darkness decided to stay, whether or not it had orders to do so. And so the wound became infected.

But Optimus refused to succumb to its power. Sheer will wrought by years of torment and suffering in war gave him the power to move on a little further.

And the game began.

------------------------------------

DANCE 1

Deep down the interiors and secret places of Cybertron's 'gut' cities, robotic priests garbed in metallic red and flaming orange robes prepared a sacrifice to an alien god in hopes of freedom from the evils that continued to hinge on the edge of their lives. The procession began as they lined along either side of a red carpet isle. Their hands raised and dropped as the high priestess passed them. Behind her trailed a procession of servants, guards and priests of another species (responsible for bringing the religion to Cybertron).

The servants carried a soon-to-be sacrifice over their heads. Long since drugged, the sacrifice did not try to worm his way to freedom. The high priestess ascended a platform of four curved steps and waved her arms toward a white metal-plated wall where the gods 'breathed'. She turned to the alter as the servants laid the flesh-and-blood sacrifice over its metal top.

"W'KG N'YATA." She laid one hand on the prisoner's sweating forehead and waved the other arm before the wall. The wall lit up, a sign for believers that their gods were listening.

The high priestess stared deep into the eyes of their gift, their sacrifice. The high priestly order committed unspeakable acts to prepare his soul to be engorged by the ravenous hunger of their foreign gods.

The high priestess herself recalled the pleasures she took from the flesh creature. Her optics flared, anticipating the joy in sending the sacrifice to their gods. Great blessings would result. Their people would surely prosper and the other robots, the Aggressive Ones, will stay away.

The priestess' metal body gleamed cold and bright as the wall's light intensified. The other priests started a slow soft chant and the flesh creature started to whimper in terror. He muffled a plea, unheard through the gag. The priestess signaled the others and they unbound the sacrifice's legs and arms and bound his torso securely to the alter. He fought the metal bonds, but could not worm his way out, nor could he undo them. Finally, he decided to try to undo his gag.

He spat it out. "Let me go!" he pleaded. "You people don't need me . . . look, your gods . . . I'm sure they're happy enough-"

"T'CHAT'MAR. YKON-NOD. DEITA. OAYA. OAYA." The priestess waved her arms before the wall again and in the center opened a pair of eyes, dark and ghastly against the glowing wall.

The sacrifice saw them and trembled. "Ohgod, ohgod, ohgod!"

And the priestess turned to him and unceremoniously ripped his left arm off and threw it toward the dark eyes.

The sacrifice shrieked in agony and horror as a black tongue flicked out and caught his arm flying through the air. He screamed more because that was a part of HIM. That was . . . HIM! Oh what coldness! What coldness! A part of him was gone, forever! EATEN!

And then she yanked off his left leg and the shock jolted through his stomach-

Rodimus shot from his flat and vomited fluids. He drew a deep breath and heaved in emotional overload. He vomited again before collapsing face down, exhausted and distraught.

Third nightmare? Fourth?

And always about the same thing: some ancient religious ritual that took place long before there was such a thing as Autobots or Decepticons; long before the Quintessons were kicked off the planet.

How? How could such an underground society exist on Cybertron? No, maybe it wasn't Cybertron. Maybe it was elsewhere; another planet or maybe another galaxy all together.

No. That was a Matrix memory. Rodimus knew without a doubt the terrible deed took place on Cybertron; that the ritual was never finished.

At least, it was never finished in his dreams. He always woke up just as the ritual sacrifice was being committed. His frame shuddered. He just HAD to get some sleep! Rodimus thought he was ready to give anything, ANYTHING to sleep one night without a miserable nightmare! Optimus didn't suffer from nightmares. So what was wrong with him?

In the last two weeks, Rodimus still found no answer.

------------------------------------

"When Edward R. Murrow of CBS finally visited Auswitch after World War II, he said he described what he could so the rest of the world could understand just what kind of horrors men do to men. Ladies and Gentlemen, I want you to realize right now, right today, that what Murrow said was only a fraction of what went on in Nazi concentration camps. The rest, he said, he had no words for. Now, your assignment is to analyze this traumatic moment and in your paper, I want a step-by-step reconstruction of his reaction. And Mr. Tolomsky? (Pause) Trevor Tolomsky! Thank you for your attention, Mr. Tolomsky. Can you tell me how many pages your paper is supposed to be?"

Rusti watched her classmate squirm in his seat. Psych was a tough class and the teacher was even tougher. But Tolomsky, a goof-off, still managed to pull a close A-grade. "I believe about three pages." The young man answered with a clearing of his throat.

Rusti privately smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Tolomsky, for informing us of your ignorance. I want six pages. I want a diagram with the report and an analysis of Mr. Murrow's history and what influenced him to say what he did."

And Mr. Krantz, the psych teacher, turned back to the board and jotted out the reading assignment. Rusti copied it, glancing twice to make sure she had it down correctly.

Krantz jotted additional information and Rusti looked a third time when an oddity caught her eye.

She about jumped out of her skin, her voice caught in a swallow of air. Rusti leapt from her desk and backed away.

"Miss Witwicky." Krantz snapped, startling other students. "What is it this time? Another trip to the lady's room?"

Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes remained transfixed to the apparition visible only to her. She paid no mind as Krantz stomped toward her. The apparition stood about eight feet high with a head attached to a pair of unmovable legs, bearing no arms or a torso. A frozen expression twisted the figure's face as though it were locked in an eternal scream. A pair of sharp horns shot from either side of the head and a V-like visor created what might have been its eyes.

"MISS WITWICKY." Krantz shouted. "WE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT THE PROBLEM IS."

Rusti stared.

Krantz picked at the air with his pen but Rusti did not hear him.

The bell rang and the apparition faded. Rusti swallowed hard and struggled to recollect her wits. Krantz shouted above the clamor of students as they gathered their things and evacuated the room for their next class.

Realizing she was about to be late, the girl herself rushed for her things.

"I will not tolerate any more interruptions in this class. Do I make myself clear?" Rusti only gave him a fleeting moment's worth of eye contact. "DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Sometimes she wished she could just faint and then maybe someone would understand what torment she suffered lately. Even her counselor denied there was something wrong.

Is that right?

"IS THAT CLEAR?"

She wanted to throw him a good punch. She wanted to tell him to shut up and call him whatever dirty name came first to her mind. But all her voice did was squeak a tiny little "Yes, sir." How pathetic, she thought. When God passed out backbones, He missed her entirely. 'Yes, sir,' indeed! But it was too late to say anything more. Rusti swept up her books and abandoned the classroom with a measure of self-disgust.

She tried to forget the incident, pressing down the long hall, passing faces and bodies. But there it was again! That . . . Freak thing! This time it stood against the corner on her way to science. Rusti tried to pass it, holding her books in front of her face and pretended she saw nothing. Just keep moving. Keep moving. She turned the next hallway, moving slowly in the center so that the other students' bodies acted as a barrier between she and the 'freak' vision.

There it was, science class. She slipped through the door, swiftly found her seat at the table and sat quietly, not willing to look anywhere.

Jennifer took her place across the table. She unslung her backpack and sat down with a heavy sigh. "Ready for the test?"

"Mostly." Rusti forced herself to look Jenn in the eye.

"I hear Mr. Goosy-loosey's gonna be unmerciful today. Man, does this guy have something up his ass, or what?"

Rusti smiled. "He probably just lost his puppy and hasn't been the same since."

"Pfff!" Jennifer wasn't thinking of puppies in a very nice and innocent sense like Rusti.

Mr. Goosle waited until everyone settled in their seats and handed their tests face down, one at a time. "Remember," his snooty voice rang loudly, "you only have this period to finish your exam. Half your grade depends on it."

Rusti waited for everyone to receive their test. Her eyes contacted the clock at the front of the room and she shuddered with a sudden rush of cold. Something blew into her.

Rusti flinched as something incoherently screamed in her mind. She blinked it away as much as she could. A huge dark maw, outlined only in barely-seen colors yawned an expanse greater than a cavern. It aimed at her and for a moment, Rusti thought she was going to be swallowed. She held up her arms to protect herself from its unseen attack.

"Question, Miss Witwicky?" Goosle snapped.

It brought Rusti back to reality, but only as one waking from a dream. "No!" she answered a bit loudly. "Just stretching, Sir." But he eyed her suspiciously and Rusti raced to put pen to paper. She managed to cut through the first ten questions before the cold hit her again. She frowned and forced herself to concentrate. Don't look at the eyes in the clockface. Don't look at the board because the stick figure might be there, too. Just keep working.

She successfully made it through science. Rusti returned to her locker to dump her books before lunch. She closed the door and greeted the grin plastered on the handsome boy who insisted on hanging around her. Cody Greydon leaned against the lockers, a look of expectation lit his eyes.

"How'd you do on the test, Rus?"

She shrugged. "I dunno. You might ask my imaginary friend down the hallway."

Cody blinked. "It's back again? Have you talked to your counselor?"

"Oh, of course I did!" Rusti snapped in sarcasm: "Hi, Miss Vanny. Guess what I've been seeing in the halls and classrooms of school lately?" She frowned with a snarl. "Yeah, they'll send me into the Ward so fast, I'll loose my freckles. And it wasn't a robot I saw today, either. It was some freakish thing like you'd find in ancient South American ruins or something."

Cody smiled quietly. "What about Rodimus or Optimus? Have you discussed it with them?"

Rusti frowned again and a shadow of sadness fell over her face. "No. They've both been really busy lately. Problems at the borders of the solar system. They brought Kup and Crosshairs in on stretchers two days ago."

"Saturday?" Cody cleared.

"Yeah."

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah. But there's a big fight and Ultra Magnus might end up going out there to settle it." Rusti fell quiet. The mouth opened again and threatened to devour her. She came out of it when Cody laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Lunch time?"

Math and English came after 'track B' lunch. Rusti hated her schedule because she had to wait most of the day before break. But fortunately for her, the last two classes were easier. She could not figure out why the 'freak thing' always haunted her right around science. Maybe that portion of the school was haunted. But Rusti did not think so. It was not there last year.

Cody joined her at the bus which transferred her to another bus going out to Fort Max. They studied together in the EDC cafeteria because Cody was good at math and science and Rusti helped him with history. Besides, the 'mess hall' was always stocked with the very best ice cream.

They studied for two hours before Cody returned home. Rusty resumed her homework in the solace of her room. Music from her stereo quietly beat as she leafed through her history book and devoured a second bowl of grapes and vanilla ice cream.

A flash of light caught the corner of her eye and Rusti slowly raised her head, tearing her eyes off the homework.

Nothing. She shrugged and ate another spoonful.

Another flash, this time a lot brighter and she raised her eyes again. It came right at her and she flinched, dropping her book and ice cream. The sphere of light zipped round her room then came at her again, this time she freaked and ran for the door.

Locked.

It came at her again and she pounded on the door. "Max!" She cried, "Max! Let me out!"

No answer. The light shot all over the room as though it too tried to escape then it spread, blanketing the walls with a horrible intensity that blinded her. Rusti screamed and hid her eyes, the light seeped through her lids.

Then all fell dark.

Quiet.

She dared a glance up, her body shaking, her eyes readjusting to the light of her own room. "Max?" Her voice quivered, "Max?"

The light shot back from nowhere and slammed into her face.

Rusti could not account for the time she had been out. She remained where she fell and wondered if this was how a wounded cloud felt.

Where did THAT thought come from?

Wounded . . . you can't wound a cloud! She moaned and covered her face. Wounded clouds and visions of freak aliens that just stand and stare. It was undeniable: she was losing her mind. Rusti Witwicky was going insane. But who should she tell? She'd hate to tell Optimus, he had enough problems. Her counselor told her she was going to be just fine, that she just needed to work it all out.

Yeah, right. Work it out while trying to be normal-what the devil hit her, anyway?

"Max!" she hoped someone could come help her.

HERE, MISS WITWICKY

"Something hit me-" she stopped, remembering Max did not see, or realize what was going on. How could THAT be? Max knew everything that was going on. His presence was omniscient throughout the city-after all, it was HIS body they lived and worked in. But he did not know why the door was locked, did not set an alarm when the sphere of light entered Rusti's room, did not even realize . . . did not know.

That sounded even crazier.

I APOLOGIZE, MISS WITWICKY, WHAT DID YOU NEED AGAIN?

"Um, um, what-what time is it, Max?" Rusti decided to just try to get up on her own. Her body felt as heavy as a teaspoon of neutronium, dead like a great rock. It was okay, she told herself, just relax.

IT IS OH-ONE HUNDRED.

"One in the morning?" But, it was only eight-thirty. She was out for quite a while. Rusti rolled over on her side and readied to push herself up with all the strength she had. But before she did so, something flickered on the wall across the room. She turned and stared at it. One minute, two . . .

There it was again! A star-shaped 'buzzing' white light like static from a TV. Instead of getting up, Rusti crawled to the wall and touched the static. The surface was still the same cold metal that made Fort Max, but the sinister vision discolored it.

And then it snapped out, or rather, in, disappearing as if never happening.

Gone. She really was losing her mind. Rusti sat there, bewildered until she started to cry. She was losing her mind.

After a few minutes, the girl decided that maybe she wasn't so crazy. Maybe she was just tired and needed sleep.

_Rusti? _

Roddi finally called her. They had not communicated in days and Rusti decided to leave them alone because they were doing so much and she could feel their stress.

She smiled, _Hi Roddi. _

_Something upset you._ Instead of his usual cheerful self, Rodimus sounded cautious, slow.

_I thought I saw something on the wall. _

_Something on the wall? Couldn't be a flicker of light, could it? Not some insane- _

Rusti cringed at that word-

_-flicker of light that danced over the surface. Things like that don't really happen. _

_No,_ she concurred. Rusti wasn't sure if she should try to convince Roddi what she saw was real or not. Perhaps he was right; that she was just hallucinating. Right? _Things like that don't really happen. The wall is still a wall, just a slab of coldness containing millions of microcircuits and conduits. All of them dancing . . . _

_Sleep it off, Lady Friend. Sleep it off. _

Rusti silently nodded, crawled to her bed and forced herself up. She practically collapsed into it and lay her heavy head in the pillow. "Max, lights, please."

And the lights snapped out.

Just like the static on the wall.

Two forty-five AM was the first thing Rusti discovered when she woke again. Her head would not be silent. Snatches of tunes rolled over and over in her mind, intermingled with the voices of different thoughts. Images snapped through her mind at lightening speed: Cody, school, the Dinobots, Mom/Dad, homework, bits off the TV.

Rusti slapped her hands to her ears and ordered her mind to be still and silent. "Be quiet!" She whispered.

But the silence in her room only encouraged her mind to whirl more loudly. One voice; another followed by bits of music-oh please, please be quiet! After fighting it for several minutes, Rusti thought a little music might get her mind off whatever subconsciously upset her. She patted her night stand for the stereo's remote and flicked it on, making sure it was low enough for her to sleep by.

But the voices kept coming and at one point, they shouted so that they shook her from the edge of sleep. Rusti growled, sat up and gazed at her window. A clear night sky made enough room for a full moon to shed its light into her quarters.

Maybe there was too much light in her room. Rusti peeled the covers off and laid her hands on the thick cream-colored curtains. A huge mouth snapped at her from the other side of the window. The girl gasped with a start and jumped back.

Blink. It was gone.

Rusti yanked the curtains closed and swung away from the window as tears choked her.

Maybe some warm milk will help her sleep.

The girl peeked out her door, surprised she was in her quarters in Central Command rather than the EDC district. How the hell did she get HERE! The girl stood there in the hallway, trying to figure out how she got here. What was going on? No, she must still be dreaming, right? Why didn't she realize she was not in the EDC district when she first sat up? What happened? She turned back to her room and sure enough, she was in Central Command, not EDC.

Rusti whimpered, covered her mouth and started to cry. She had to tell someone. She had to let someone know something was wrong! At least she knew that Optimus and Roddi would make sure she'd have the very best of care. At least they would visit her at the hospital. She wiped her tears and decided to face her fears. Rusti returned to her dresser and plucked up her robe.

The hall outside her room stretched into a vortex of soundlessness. No one came or went as she traveled toward Optimus' office. No feet followed her or shared the elevator; robotic or otherwise. Rusti questioned whether or not she dreamed this silence.

She arrived on the second to the topmost floor and swung around when the elevator doors snapped closed. Her heart stopped, her breath left her and she waited.

Wait . . .

Nothing.

Nothing?

It was all in her head! She pressed toward Optimus' office and wondered what kind of a mood he'd be in. Of course, she could just Touch on him, see if he was receptive or not. But for some reason, she decided not to.

His doors were open. It was uncommon enough an occurrence that it made the girl pause before stepping onto the threshold. And again, that was an odd reaction for her since she knew that she was welcome into his office at anytime for any reason. Rusti drew a deep breath and she stepped through the doorway.

Optimus instantly greeted her with his soft blue optics. He said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Optimus," her squeaky little voice barely penetrated the quiet world around her. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. I was going to just get some milk, but I came here instead. I don't know why."

Prime still stared at her as though he did not know what to say. Then he asked the strangest question: "Rusti, if you were to give birth to me, would I be the same person I am now?"

Her face twisted in confusion. She didn't think she heard him right. "If . . . I were to give birth . . . to you?"

"That's right." He confirmed. "Would I be the same person I am now?"

She batted her eyes, her brows tightened. "What kind of question is that?"

"I don't know. It's something I was just thinking about."

She turned her head so that she looked at him out the corners of her eyes. "Have . . . you talked with Ultra Magnus about this?"

"No. Magnus would insist on having my temperature taken. What do you think?"

Rusti gave him an uncertain smile. "Well . . . I don't think you'd be a Transformer, Optimus. But as for personality, um . . . maybe. I don't know anything about . . . you know, philosophy; preordained destiny, that sort of thing." She peered at him with a little more scrutiny. "Why are you asking?"

Prime leaned a over his desk. Digipads slid around to accommodate his movement. "Because I sometimes question why I've remained alive when so many other Autobot leaders have not been so successful. I do not mean the four million-year deactivation. I am not including that. But I sometimes wonder why I have remained alive; even returning to life after termination." Now he looked away and Rusti watched as an otherwise emotionless face melted away, replaced with sadness. "Sometimes I question whether or not I'm an Autobot Prime at all."

"Of course you are!" Rusti immediately answered, very surprised. "If it weren't true, you and I couldn't talk in our minds like we do. Kup said that you've used the Matrix on more than one occasion. How could you doubt something like that?"

Prime delayed his answer. He fingered a pad in front of his right hand, pushing it until it slid out of reach. "Because of all the awful mistakes I've made; those moments when I should have done something and did not; the lives that have been lost because I believed I was doing the right thing. Such evil, Rusti. Such unspeakable evil."

"Nobody said you had to be perfect." Her own voice fell soft with disbelief. Why was he saying all this? Why was he saying such strange things?

"Have to be so careful, Rusti. So very, very careful. The Autobots often look to me as though I were a god. They expect so much and I do such awful things."

Rusti shook her head. This was unreal! Optimus had confided in her before, but not quite to this degree, not this personal. She was still dreaming, had to be. This was the strangest conversation! Well, if a dream she was in, then she would make the most of it. "Optimus, I know sometimes it's really hard doing what you do. I don't know everything you do, but I know it's really hard sometimes. I wish I could take you away and make someone else deal with all those angry people. Did something bad happen today that makes you sad?"

He hesitated again. "There is a gravestone that changes. All the time. It says a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Names. Places."

"Where is it?"

"In the Matrix. It keeps count, you know. It knows all the names and the faces. Sometimes I see them, too. It doesn't forget. It won't forget. And . . . sometimes it won't let me forget. Such terrible sins."

Rusti felt very dirty listening to all this negative talk. Optimus was never like this before. Maybe a friend of his died and he was unwilling to talk about it. "No." She blurted.

"Hm?" He asked, now looking at her again.

"In answer to your first question about mine giving birth to you. No, you would not be the same person. All the experiences you've had and the places you've been and the people you've been around would not have existed. You would be a very different person."

There! Rusti caught a glimmer of hope in his optics and Prime almost smiled. She quickly added to her answer: "Of course then, being my child, I'd have to call you Stanly and you'd end up working in some supermarket as a cashier wearing a white long-sleeved work shirt and a bow tie under your chin."

"Heh." Prime almost laughed, "and then I'd come home and you could make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

Rusti wholly smiled. The conversation was real. Her smile died down a little. "What happened today, Optimus? Is it classified?"

"No." He answered with a heavy sigh. "Just . . . another day."

Liar, she thought. He wanted to say something more but held it back. She could always tell when he held it back.

The creature-machine. A multitude of bits and pieces of non-organic substances all compiled in an artificial body comprised of connectors and circuitry. In a sense, all living things are machines. The physical body, organic or mechanical, requires sustenance, gives off energy. It moves and performs tasks. It can be graceful in motion, power in ability and beauty in shape. But each species of creature has a different structure. No two species are alike. If that were so, the universe would be completely uniform and beauty could not exist.

Who said life had to be all the same? The difference here stand solid like a stone tablet: organic verses mechanical. Flesh and bone verses metal and circuits.

Rusti sensed Max's awareness all the way to her quarters. Optimus said not a word, but she felt everything around her, pulsating like a mental heartbeat. Her awareness stretched further like a tunnel reaching far off into a universal consciousness.

Something breathed in the walls of the city.

No.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

The walls were breathing . . .

She paused and her vision tunneled. All she saw were the walls and she stared, not aware that Optimus stood next to her, patiently waiting for her to continue. The walls bent outward, then sank back in. A soft hissing sounded each time they expanded and deflated.

_They have always breathed._ Optimus said softly.

_Not _

_like _

_This. _

Rusti turned this way then that, examining the blue metal walls around them. Her eyes traced the rims where plates connected. Supposedly, Fort Max had the ability to transform. But he had done nothing like that since 2012.

_Will I die if I touch it? _

_You will become a part of it._ Prime confirmed.

Cold speculations.

Something was there, breathing, watching, waiting.

It knows.

Rusti turned directly to Prime, "What did you do to me that I am now contaminated?" She meant the connection between she and the two Autobot leaders, but her words did not come out that way.

"They brought me back to life."

Rusti did not even consider Optimus' subject change as odd; it was just a comment: "It was a necessity." She argued.

"It was not supposed to happen. I am not supposed to be alive."

She thought of the Hate Plaque: "They had no choice."

"It was too late, Rusti. They should not have tried it to begin with."

Mental and emotional rape. Life illegally came back into a lifeless, malfunctioning, filthy corpse.

WAIT!

blackness came right for her and Rusti realized-ohmigod-realized-ohimgod-knew-ohmigod-saw-!

She saw it, saw the eyes cold-

no-ohmigod NO, NO, NO, NO!

IT

HAD

NO

FACE!

She shot up from her pillow and screamed. Darkness met her wild eyes and silence swallowed her terror.

Rusti was in bed.

She shuddered and flopped back on her pillow. She sprang up again when her skin contacted a sopping wet pillow. She patted it and cringed when sweat and tears moistened the flatness of her hand. The girl tossed the pillow to the floor and lay flat.

What was all that about? What a weird and crazy dream!

She sighed and glanced toward her clock radio.

Three AM.

Rusti sat up again. Her curtains were drawn. She peeled back her covers when she realized she was wearing her robe. And she was in her room in Central Command, not the EDC District

What was going on? What just happened? And should she seek Optimus and see if he knew, or should she just stay quiet in bed?

Her eyes closed for a moment . . . two . . . three . . . and her mind fell to darkness before she could decide what to do.

------------------------------------

The following morning offered only a measure of comfort from the night before. Rusti's mind managed to stay together well enough for her to function. She attended class and made it through first and second period and back to her locker to exchange books.

Rusti closed her locker door and met the shining, smiling face of Cody Greydon.

"Boo." He greeted softly. "Miss me?"

"Only since day before yesterday." She answered as she adjusted her books. The girl sighed and readjusted the weight of her back pack. She was really not in the mood for fun and games.

"I was wondering if you were going to have lunch inside or outside today."

Rusti briefly thought, "Outside."

"Really?"

"I feel claustrophobic, like the walls are going to cave in at any moment."

Cody nodded quietly as they made their way down the long hall, passing one student then three. "Have you seen 'Mr. Creepy' yet today?"

"No." She answered as she checked to make sure her hair was still bound by a loose ribbon. "He usually doesn't show up until science." Rusti stopped dead in her tracks and faced Cody entirely. "I had the weirdest dream last night."

"Yeah. I get those now and again."

"Not like this. I was there, but I wasn't."

"You were somebody else?"

"No. I was there at one part, for real, I mean. And then it all sorta melted into a dream."

"Receding consciousness?"

"What?"

"Sleep walking?"

Her face went blank and Rusti batted her eyes. "I guess so." She stammered.

Cody nodded. "Some case studies have proven that people who sleepwalk visualize one thing while they're doing something else."

Rusti swallowed nervously. "Is that bad?"

"Only if a crime has been committed."

The girl fell quiet and somber. Maybe the shrink was right; maybe it was all because of her trauma from the past. Cody kindly laid his arm across her shoulders.

"Hey, I wouldn't worry about it, Rus. Come on, how about a good dish of ice cream after school?"

Her eyes caught his and her smile flashed up then died the very next moment. The damn freak vision stood in the hall entrance, staring at her.

"Is it there, again?"

She mutely nodded. Rusti approached it with some trepidation, grateful Cody walked with her as she gazed at an apparition that no one else could see. She knew other students stared at her as they passed by. She knew what they thought.

"I SEARCHED THE FUTURE AND FOUND DEATH."

Rusti's eyes narrowed. For the first time it spoke. "What future?" She asked it quietly. "Who are you?"

Now it looked into her and Rusti's mind raced into a past centuries old, meganiums beyond count . . . "AND I HAVE BEEN THERE. I WAS THERE WHEN THE UNIVERSE CAME TO BE. I WAS GIVEN AND GAVE AND GAVE AND BREATHED N'SHAMA."

Back, back, back. Years became centuries, centuries became millenniums. Millenniums became meganiums and time kept receding into a tunnel of existence/nonexistence. "AND I HAVE BEEN THERE. I WAS THERE WHEN THE UNIVERSE CAME TO BE. I WAS GIVEN AND GAVE AND GAVE AND BREATHED N'SHAMA."

Who said life had to consist of flesh and blood? Who said scientists knew everything? Who said? Cold refined metal wrought of will and soul learned to breath and knew light and dark.

It was not supposed to live.

It was a completely different life form so unlike the physics and natural laws of this solar system that the Human race had to reorganize their periodic tables because the metal was not like any metals found in the Terran system.

Down, down, down, back, back, back. Keep going. Keep going. Further.

Come on, little girl. Keep going.

Rusti wanted to pull away. Time slipped from her entirely. She did not know where she went and her mind screamed for someone to pull the ride to a stop. Then the blackness receded and the scenery changed. She stood on a ground made of metal. The buildings before her stooped and bowed in age-old damage.

"Optimus," she whispered, "help." No answer. No answer. None would come. Rusti had no idea where her consciousness was taken. Was this Cybertron? What was doing this to her?

From the dark interior of a nearby building to her right emerged a spider-like thing complete with metallic tentacles. It was a walking nightmare.

"DO YOU LIKE THINGS SCARY?"

She did not know where the voice came from. She had never heard it before.

"IT WAS ONCE THE GREATEST CREATION ON CYBERTRON. IT HAD NO LASERCORE. IT HAD NO SOUL. BUT IT COMMITTED UNSPEAKABLE CRIMES." It breathed and pulsed with stolen life force. It thought and knew. No, it did not really Know. It knew nothing except targets and destruction.

It had nothing but hunger.

A vampire?

Was it a soul vampire?

Perhaps. Perhaps that was the easiest way to explain it. What evil wrought this thing? Was it a soul from the Pitt? From Hell? Was it something that emerged from the depths of the mind of a traitor?

Or was it something else entirely?

Maybe, the girl thought, maybe it was the devil in another guise.

No.

-The devil is here, now.-

-The devil is watching, waiting.-

She shook herself. There's no such thing as a devil.

-But that's what It WANTS you to believe.-

-Come, dance!-

-Come, dance!-

And before Rusti's eyes, a large group of Autobots walked toward the spidery, snaky thing. It waited patient as a serpent while they knelt before it, their optics transfixed, hypnotized.

And it fed on them. It ripped open their cranial chambers and ate. Then it regurgitated and fed them horrors beyond description. It twisted their souls and tore at their mentality. It vomited evil intentions and made them rejoice in the death of their former selves. It yanked life and replaced it with cruelty and malice.

And their minds fell to darkness and they wondered how they could have lived such a lie, lived such perfectly repulsive innocent lives.

-There's no such thing as innocence.-

Rusti fell to her knees and started crying. Oh the sin! And she just stood by and watched and did NOTHING! She wept for the former Autobots, now declaring their loyalties to Megatron. She wept for a future that would never be for them. She wept for a society long since destroyed by imperfection and lust.

"Help," her voice squeaked outside herself. "Help me."

She did not hear the commotion outside her mind. She did not see or hear Cody talking with hall monitors or three teachers. She did not see the nurse come rushing down the hall.

She did not hear the arguing.

But when Cody knelt beside her, she instantly became aware of him. This gentle boy, just a year older than she, gained her complete trust. He coaxed her off her knees and guided her to lean against him. He swept her off the floor in spite of protests from the surrounding adults. The weightlessness of being carried comforted the girl because she was now safe in someone's arms. She rested her head against his shoulder and for a moment, pretended it was Optimus that carried her away.

Then Rusti lost consciousness.

An intense light pierced Rusti in one eye then the other. She came to when a sharp scent shot through her mind and bit her back to life. She roused, groggy and unresponsive until someone pried her eyes open again and blinded her with light. She moaned then whined.

"Resonna?" Some guy's voice demanded her attention. "Resonna? Do you know what day it is?"

She could not answer and wished he left her alone.

"Pull out the oxygen, would you, Windy?"

The very next moment, Rusti's mouth and nose were covered with a small plastic device. Slowly the grogginess lifted and the girl found herself able to think more clearly. Her eyes opened entirely and found a doctor and nurse staring intently at her, puzzlement covered their faces.

"Well, good." The doctor mused. "Go ahead and document this, Windy. Hello, Resonna. Quite a spell you had back there. According to your chart, you have a history of 'incidents.' Mind telling me what it's all about?"

Rusti slowly peeled the mask off her face and stared at him. She recalled the drugs administered by her brother and how she suffered terrible hallucinations for days.

What she just experienced was more than a hallucination. She was THERE. "I'm not really sure." She answered softly.

"Hmmhm." The doctor fingered the digipad containing Rusti's medical records. "Says here you're being treated for psychological disturbance."

"I'm not crazy."

"No, you're not." he confirmed. "In fact, I'd say you're a very straight-forward and sane young lady. So," here he stared directly into her eyes, "what happened?"

"I lost consciousness." She answered frankly. Then without thinking, she added: "I lost my mind."

Optimus did not particularly care about traffic reports, visitors logs or citizen's complaints. His mind drifted off, off to a world unknown to others. He thought of a tiny place where the sun remained frozen in an eternal sunset. There were huge ravines and far below them flowed a large lake reflecting the sunset. A little ways from there stood a small meadow with one lonely structure. That structure, made of hand-hewn stone, was his home. Flowers and shrub blossomed around that little home. And a ways from that rose several gentle slopes, all fuzzy with soft green grass and a few tall, tall trees that stretched but did not quite reach the sky. Optimus shut the little place out for a while, lest anyone catch him daydreaming at such an inappropriate time. The reports were necessary to keep the society moving smoothly. But sometimes the necessity of the mundane things in life was just too monotonous.

The intercom bleeped.

Ah! An interruption! "Excuse me, Springer." Prime said politely. He interlinked. "Prime." He answered deadpan.

"Yo, Boss," Blaster came back, ever annoyingly cheerful. "Gotta call from Cascade High."

"Rusti?"

"Says they need someone to come down n' pick her up."

"Patch me in, Blaster."

"You got it!"

"Hello?" A masculine voice wavered over the com.

"This is Prime." Optimus answered. He worried that Rusti might have gotten into trouble again.

"Uh, hi. I'm Dr. Gaub. I'm calling to inform you that Resonna Witwicky fainted in school and I think it best someone come and take her home. The records show you're her guardian."

"Did she get into trouble, Doctor?" Optimus asked pointedly.

"No," Gaub smiled over the com. "No, I think she just had a fainting spell. Is she depressed? Her records show she's taking counseling."

"I'll be right up, Doctor." Optimus was not about to discuss Rusti's problems to an 'outsider'. He was sure the doctor meant well, but the Senior Prime sensed the girl was in the same room and he was not about to bring up subjects that could upset her. Besides, Rusti was HIS problem. No one was going to lay a hand on her. Sometimes he wondered if he should even allow her to go to the county high school. Rusti was doing well for herself, certainly. But sometimes Optimus worried for her. She was so fragile and if anything happened to her . . . no, that was a forbidden thought and he pressed that aside.

"I have to go, Springer."

"The rest of the report is not completed yet, anyway, Prime." Springer answered. "However . . ." he watched as Optimus rounded his desk and aimed for the doorway, "there have been a couple of disturbing news reports from Central City regarding ritual killings. I'd like a shot at looking into them."

"Do it." Optimus granted, and stay out of my way for a while, he added in thought.

He paused, wondering why he suddenly felt so hostile. It was not necessary. Springer was doing his job, and doing it well. The Autobot leader reprimanded himself. "Let me know if you turn up anything unusual." He amended softly.

Springer saluted him and Prime departed.

The girl looked guilt-driven when Prime arrived at the school. They ushered her out to meet her guardian and the three adults; the principal, the doctor and her science teacher, talked over one another trying to explain her unusual behavior of late.

Optimus only half listened to their incessant chatter while his optics remained on the girl. She was very tired. _I'm sorry, Rusti._ he said soothingly. _We'll go home as soon as I can get them to shut up._

_I was there. I saw the awful mechanical spider with tentacles. I saw what it did. _She felt his presence carefully envelop her and comfort her troubled mind.

The principal's voice managed to raise above the other two: "It's her social development we're most concerned about. She's been reported two or three times verbally assaulting other girls in her PE class. They claim they have done nothing to warrant her aggressive behavior."

Optimus nodded. "Perhaps it's best to have her stay home for a few days."

Principal Daters crossed his arms. "I'll have to remind you that mid term is coming in another week and it's imperative that she stay in school."

He did not see Optimus' optics darken with displeasure. Prime was not sure to go along with the 'little' man's power game, or defy him (and court order) and let Rusti stay home due to mental illness. He could tell she was in no condition to remain in school. But he could not decide whether to keep her home, or make her go to school and let the idiots find out for themselves.

Dr. Gaub spoke his mind on the matter, whatever it was. Optimus paid no attention as his optics caught sight of a freakish Human-sized image standing against the wall. He zeroed in on it with his optic sensors.

What was that thing?

Then his intercom bleeped. "I'm sorry," Prime intervened during the teacher's comments, "I have a call." He answered it internally, much relieved it was a call to get back to the city right away. "Forgive me, Doctor. Gaub, I'm needed back at the fortress. Can we discuss this at a later time?"

"Most certainly." The slim fellow stuck his chest out in pride over Optimus' use of the courtesy title. "I'll contact you."

Prime did not reply. He transformed and opened the passenger side door for Rusti. She quickly and quietly slipped in, watching the figure over her shoulder as Optimus pulled out of the school parking lot. The freak remained where it was and Rusti hoped it would not follow them back to Fort Max.

"What is that thing?" Prime asked after they left the Ribbon and traveled Gateside Road toward Autobot City, Oregon.

"My little hallucination." Rusti shamefully answered.

"You've seen that all along?"

"Only for the past few days." Prime said nothing more. Rusti felt guilty for not saying anything. She shrugged. "I thought, you know, it was just me, that I've been . . . silly."

"You are not 'silly', Rusti." Prime replied ever so quietly. "What has happened is not your fault. The trauma is not your fault." He fell quiet again as he came up over the Suicide Pass. "What do you know about it?"

"The freak thing?"

"Yes."

"Well, it appears usually around my science class, sometimes before, or after. It just stares at me. But today it spoke and I fell unconscious. I had a terrifying dream. Something about a mechanical spider and Autobots being changed by it." She bowed her head as they passed through the entrance to the city. "I supposed you don't know what it is, either, do you, Optimus?"

"It seems . . . familiar, Rusti. I'll check through the archives to make sure."

Optimus slowed to a stop while Strike Back led a squad across the roadway on a jogging drill. He called out in a chant and they responded. Prime waited patiently, aimlessly scanning the area, considering what he needed to do in the next few hours. Reports from Gate 09-A needed to be looked over. EDC requested permission to purchase six new vehicles and two new trainees were ready for their final route test.

So many things that required his attention. Optimus wondered how he managed to get anything done at all. He felt closed in, crowded, as though he would drown.

His scanners caught a sudden shift of light and he scanned the wall of the nearby gatekeeping station. For a second he swore the wall flickered on and off like a video screen. He paused before rolling forward, waiting for the wall to do more.

But it did not and after hesitating for another moment, Prime decided he just needed rest.

------------------------------------

Optimus felt it best to avoid a confrontation with the school at this point. He and Rodimus simply could not afford the immediate time necessary to get Rusti a tutor.

Rusti reluctantly returned to school the next day. She was not in the mood for sitting hour after hour while teachers droned on and kids acted like idiots. A dull fifty minutes of civics tortured her mood and Rusti found herself more than happy to just leave campus. But now came second-period volleyball. Perhaps she could work her mood into better shape. she slowly dressed, knowing she was a bit late for warm-up.

"Hey, Witwicky!" Her name was Tina. Her slender frame slid easily into a pair of rayon shorts and her flat topside wore a T-shirt one size a bit small. She bunched her hair into a tie and laced her high-tops. "They said you serve today. Think you can get it over the net?"

Rusti didn't like her tone of voice. "I can get YOU over the net more easily." She threw the other girl an icy stare and received the same glare.

"Yeah. I guess you think you're hot stuff. Too bad you're not in basketball. Guess you don't have the balls for it."

"I won't tangle with an inferior species." And Rusti walked out. She was not going to take anybody's BS today. She adjusted her shorts just slightly as she pushed her way into the gymnasium. Her classmates all gathered about like so many maintenance droids clucking, waiting for orders.

Coach Rhydt bounced the ball and blew the whistle for attention. "Ladies! I remind you no more than three turns per side! Do not touch the net and Brandy, if I see gum in your mouth one more time, I will make you WEAR it.

Tina entered the large room with a fresh coat of makeup. Rusti wondered who she was trying to impress. The two girls squared off with a dark gaze as Tina took position on the other side of the net. The coach handed Tina's side the ball and Cali served first.

Nell at the front tried to block the pass but missed. Abby whapped the ball with two fists and it bounced back to Tina's side. Randi caught it underneath, setting it up for Angie behind her. Angie kissed the ball with her fingertips and Jo tried to jam it over the net.

Maddi from Rusti's side kept it from hitting the ground and Sammy sent it back over.

Jo tried to hit it with one fist, but it still cleared her reach and she overextended herself, tripping into Angie.

The ball fell between them and Angie gave Jo a dirty look.

Coach Rhydt blew her whistle and pointed to Rusti. The ball flew over the net and Rusti easily caught it. She scanned the other side for a weakness. Nell seemed particularly anxious today. Abby was already mad, which meant she was distracted. Cali was waiting her opportunity.

Tina pursed her lips in a kiss. "Kiss it over the net, Dear. I know you can do it."

Something sparked in Rusti's mind and she sent her rival a vicious cat's smile. Rusti bounced the ball once and tossed it up for a serve. She smacked it with her open hand, nice and easy and watched as it flew toward the other side. Brandy bounced it with her clasped hands and the ball shot straight upward. But instead of falling back to earth, it stayed in the air, not frozen, because it spun and remained suspended above the girls. They all backed from it, their eyes locked in shock.

Rusti stared at it. Something inside her laughed, completely amused.

-watch this-

And the ball started to glow.

_Don't do this thing._ Rusti thought there were two of her, herself and an evil self.

-I won't hurt them. It's just a little game.-

_We don't play games, remember? _

-today we will play a game.-

Rusti closed her eyes and wondered what the body count was going to be.

The glowing sphere started to expand, creating a field of energy. The occupants in the room simply stood there, spell-bound. The energy created a breeze that turned into a wind. The wind whipped, forming a small cyclone among them. It was harmless, to be sure, but miraculous, nonetheless.

_Don't do this thing._ Rusti begged. _These powers are a responsibility, not a ticket for personal amusement._

-you can't stop me, little girl. You don't have that kind of power.-

_Yes. _

_ I _

_ Do. _

The ball exploded, sending the group of girls and the coach on their backs. A flash of light followed and tiny sparks lazily fell like so much dust.

Rusti stood in silence, wondering why it happened.

------------------------------------

Magnus waited nervously as Rodimus examined his report. Roddi was not in a good mood-to put it nicely. He had been pulling a straight eight-day work pace that left him little more than unbearable. He and Prime were hard at work preparing the final shipping stages for Fort Zenith. It was very close to completion now, after six years in construction. Both Primes were edgy and Magnus wished they could get it all done and over with and get back to being themselves. He couldn't tell which was worse; Optimus' brooding, or Roddi's insufferable temper.

"Well, I don't see why we need to bother with this at all." Rodimus abruptly snorted. "This is all Central City police activity. We already have our hand units full of bullshit. Why are you bringing this stuff to me, Magnus?"

"Because, Rodimus, it fits the same pattern we encountered six years ago with the Doppelgangers: ritual killings, missing body parts, but no money or other precious articles taken. Just the body tissue. Don't you find this the least bit suspicious?"

"Yeah. It's fascinating." Rodimus frowned and turned his attention to another pad.

Magnus took back his report and held it between his own large hands. "I really want to look into this, Rodimus."

"Well, you're a big boy, Mags. Be my guest, if you think you can handle it."

"I was hoping you or Prime might want a closer look into it. It might mean the Doppelgangers had other accomplices."

Rodimus tossed the pad in his hands onto a huge pile of other pads. His voice turned to sarcasm: "Well! You can get a stack of fancy invitation cards and to a tea party and ask them questions over tea and cake, now can't you? Meanwhile, I have dealings with Ambassador Duko and his lovely new mate who are demanding another stay here at Fort Max. Then I need to go to New York and find out what Trax's damned problem is regarding the new computer. Then I get to head back to Mars and supervise the installation of the new power generator on level three. AFTER THAT, I have a conference with the Mexican President Gomez who seems to think we're playing favorites because we haven't gotten around to building an Autobot city in his country. So if you have any problems you don't think you can handle, Magnus, TAKE A GODDAMNED NUMBER AND GET IN LINE!"

And Rodimus swept up another pad and started reading. Magnus stared at him for a length of time then quietly walked out. He met with Springer down the other side of the hall. The two walked side by side until they pushed their way out the exit doors to the great, partly-cloudy outside world.

"Well, what's Mr. Leader have to say?"

"He's . . . preoccupied." Magnus answered carefully.

"Preoccupied? Hey, Mags, this is me, not some newbie recruit fresh from the field. What's going on?"

Magnus paused and glanced at his tablet then stared at the building behind Springer. "I don't know, Springer. I don't like it. I don't know what's wrong with either of them."

"Either of them?" The wrecker set his fists on his hip plates and a frown turned his expression downward. "You mean you got the same response from Roddi that I did with Op: handle the situation ourselves."

"Yes."

"Well! Who needs a babysitter anyway?"

Magnus gave him a wry smile. "I guess the first thing we need to do is talk to Tolomsky."

------------------------------------

DANCE 2

It was Rapheal. The piano didn't just produce music, it spoke. One key, two. Accompaniment. Oh, so soft, so slow. The violins in the background added softness as the piano demanded attention from all the senses. It filled the soul and touched it with a little sadness.

But that sadness pressed heavily on Optimus as he listened. Someone else replaced Blaster for the afternoon while the communications officer helped Redial set up the com systems center at Fort Zenith.

Oh, so sad. It reminded Optimus of the dark loneliness. It reminded him of times and people he dared not make time to recall. Especially right now. So sad because they were all dead. They all died living.

One bloody war after another after another after another. And he wondered if he was at fault for perpetuating the wars all those meganiums.

Was he? Was he?

I can make it right, he thought. I could bring them back, certainly. They're all right here. I can bring them all back.

The music changed tempo, picking up the pace and left him peaceful, hopeful. It made him feel better.

He thought of Rusti and smiled when his mind created an image of dancing . . . dancing . . . just like the girls in the Disney cartoons.

Except . . . except that Rusti was precious.

So fragile.

So full of sunshine.

Precious sunshine.

The intercom bleeped just as the song changed. Good timing.

"This is Prime." He answered with an emotionless voice.

"Commander, Ambience, here. I just got a call from a Dr. Gaub at Cascade High School."

Prime moaned and rested his head in his hand. No one said taking care of a girl was easy. He was warned more than once. But sometimes, just sometimes, he wished Rusti would get into trouble while no one was looking. She wasn't always in trouble, really. She had been of late. There was the in-class fight with another girl in English two weeks ago. There was the teacher who insisted Rusti was being disruptive because she was hallucinating. There was, of course, the latest problems. But on a whole, she'd been pretty good.

Well, how could anyone expect her to be 'normal' living the kind of life she does? How could they expect her not to behave strangely on occasion, knowing what she had gone through?

A skinny shriveled woman greeted him in the main hall near the nurses' office. The woman's yellowed skin told of a hard young life, most likely spent in sunshine. Now she was a cracked old thing with grey hair roots and wrinkles lining her sunken cheeks.

"Which one are you, Magnus or one of the Primes?" She was direct and stared at Optimus in the optics, not the least bit apprehensive of his size.

"Optimus Prime."

She frowned, causing the lines on her face to deepen. "Well, I would never have believed it had I not seen it myself. But there it happened and there I was and I can't deny it."

"What?"

"I'm Rhydt. I coach volleyball."

"Oh?"

"And that . . . Charge of yours has got powers I'd never seen before. That ball just floated in the air like it was a UFO. I don't think she'll be coming back to this school by the time I make my report-"

"I'd like to see her, now." Prime was not in the mood for some bickering female.

She rolled her eyes and stepped through the doors. The room was a bit narrow for Optimus' size, but he managed. Rusti sat at the examination table, her face down, eyes cast elsewhere.

Prime crossed his arms.

Nurse Windy turned from her computer. "Well, she insists it was not her doing. But she was the only one unaffected. Resonna, would you like to explain it again?"

Rusti shrugged. "I guess," she answered in a murmur. "It was the freak-thing. It was standing there after the ball exploded. I told it not to do it, but it happened anyway."

"What happened?" Prime's voice remained level.

"It wanted to show off in front of the other girls. I was in a competitive mood, but I would not have . . . done that."

Rhydt stepped forward here, "It floated a good twelve feet in the air and just spun there. Then it glowed then blew up."

"It didn't blow up." Rusti glared at her, "it blew OUT and knocked everyone off their feet."

"Everyone but HER." Rhydt corrected. "I don't know what to make of it all. I've heard of psionics, but it's the first time I've seen them."

"It wasn't my fault the thing was using that much energy," Rusti pouted. "I tried to tell it to stop and it would not. So I put a stop to it."

The alarm cried throughout the school building. All the occupants in the present room searched the ceiling and waited for an announcement.

None came.

Optimus left the room first, followed by Rhydt. Windy told Rusti to stay put, but the girl refused to do as she was told. They followed Optimus to the main hall where several students circled a crack in the wall. A heap of clothes lay on the floor, a scatter of books nearby.

"What happened?" Prime demanded over the wailing alarms.

"Dunno!" One male student answered. "He was there one minute, walking in front of me, the next, this thin black light reached out and grabbed him. He fought as it sucked him into this crack in the wall. He grasped the fire alarm and yanked it just before the light pulled him completely through."

"Did you know who he was?" Prime wished someone would shut off the stupid alarm.

"No!" the kid answered, trying to shout loudly enough, "He was just walking in front of me."

The alarm died and Prime could hear and feel a collective sigh in the hall. He remembered Springer and Magnus explained similar circumstances being reported in Central City in the past few days.

But . . .

But . . .

The Autobot leader's gaze fell to the little creature standing not far from him. She was his precious sunshine. He did not care about cracks in walls or disappearing people. _Let's leave now, Rusti._ he had already lost interest in the rising murmurs as the crowd grew in numbers.

_What about the missing boy? _

_We will inform Magnus and Springer. They will be interested in this thing. _

Rusti's brows knit together, perplexed. This was not like Optimus. Would he not inform Fort Max and ask other questions? Would he not take charge of the situation? But he already turned his back on the event and started down the hallway. He turned, expecting her to follow. After a pause, Rusti followed, glancing back two and three times. At least this event preempted any further annoyance over the incident in the gymnasium.

And Rusti wondered if in fact she was responsible for it.

But she could not see how.

Two shapes entwined, one lead the other in a dance; if dance was the right word. One shape, dark and linear, dragged another shape, grey and peach in a place that existed without time. The grey-and-peach acted like it was being dragged, rather than led. It proved this by struggling to get away but the dark shape clutched at its middle and held tight, tight.

They kissed. But it was malicious, filthy and the grey-and-peach shape struggled.

Then it started to bleed.

That snapped Magnus out of his dream. His chronometer told him it was a quarter to two A.M. He collapsed back onto his flat, his mind whirled with the distressing dream. What the hell was that all about? Two shapes? Did they mean something? Was it important? Did it have something to do with the disappearing people? One was a black light. Was that the same as the black shape in his dream?

Somehow the Major-General didn't think so.

As he stared at the ceiling in his quarters, the dark metal panels faded into a soft light grey. "What the hell?" He asked aloud. "Max, what's going on with the ceiling?"

I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT, COMMANDER.

"The ceiling is lighting . . . up . . ."

Before his optics, a scene appeared in the ceiling just like a television set, except the edges were fuzzy and darkened back to the metal's real color. The scene moved without sound, adding a greater eeriness to the moment. Worse yet, Magnus recognized the event: their first encounter with the Junkions. There! They were chasing Arcee. There! They went after Springer. There! They took off after a very young Daniel Witwicky-But that was decades ago-and the scene was perfect in every detail! There was no way it could have been a reenactment.

"Max!" Magnus called again, "Max, what is this? What's going on?"

I DON'T KNOW TO WHAT YOU ARE REFERRING, COMMANDER.

Had the city gone bonkers? "Can't you see this?"

SEE WHAT, COMMANDER?

"The . . . the damned thing playing on the ceiling!" And no sooner had he said that than the scene snapped out as if someone had shut off a light.

He kept staring at the ceiling, expecting another scene to flicker on. The dark silence enveloped him; his own anticipation came louder than the thundering blast of a bomb.

The intercom bleeped and Magnus about jumped out of his own hide. He startled and sat straight up, catching his breath. He made himself calm down before patching into the com.

"Magnus," he answered.

"I'm sorry to bother your rest, Commander," came Ambiance's soft voice. She was a nice substitute to Blaster and Magnus half smiled, wondering if it would be possible to get the annoying communications officer a nice transfer to Fort Sonix. Not really possible, however, since Blaster was one of the 'higher-ups'. But it was a nice thought.

"Jax Tolomsky is calling. He says it's an emergency."

"Thank you, Ambiance. Chief Tolomsky?" Magnus called.

"Sorry to wake you in the middle of the night." Tolomsky's voice came out from nowhere. "I was wondering if you and you officers can come down here, maybe bring Streetwise."

"Another body?"

"Yeah. A dead one-or what's left of it."

"We'll be right there." Magnus hesitated before leaving the room and gave the ceiling a final glance, wondering if maybe he just dreamed the whole incident.

But he really didn't want to know the truth.

------------------------------------

Cody watched Rusti jot down answers to a study guide from her science book. He loved to sit with her in the quiet moments they did homework. Oh, he'd never lay a hand on her other than to carry her books or touch her shoulder. Cody considered himself a gentleman. Besides, he didn't want any trouble from her guardians. Not that Optimus or Rodimus frightened him; he just didn't want to assume anything.

But there were times when he wished he could touch her pretty lips with his. There were times when he wished he could sink his fingers into her soft red hair. Red hair drove him crazy as it was. He remembered dating another girl with red hair one summer. She was wild, ostentatious and spontaneous. He enjoyed kissing her. But Rusti was quiet and gentle. The smallest things made her laugh and light up. And he loved to see her smile.

"Rusti?" She looked up and he thought he'd be lost in those sea-grey eyes. "Rusti, do you . . . do you think Op and Roddi will let you go out on a date?"

She tilted her head slightly to the left, saying nothing. Then she tilted it a little to the right and down. "I don't know, Cody. I've never asked."

Cody plucked up his courage. "We could go to the VR park. I could bring you back by ten, if you think they'll say it's okay."

Rusti thought hard. The court might want to make sure she was chaperoned or something just as dumb. But it would be a real drag if she had to bring an Autobot along for laser tag or video games. On the other hand, Autobots did come in all sizes and shapes. She could easily take one of the Cassette Tapes along with her. NOT Rewind-he talked too much. Steeljaw might be a good choice. He liked her and kept his promise to say nothing when she walked several miles outside the city by herself a long time ago. She nodded. "I think I know a way that will make sure we get an opportunity."

Optimus' door was open again. Rusti thought that very peculiar because Optimus always liked as much privacy as he could steal. She shook her head. It was probably just a phase. Maybe he was trying something new and different. She and Cody passed the threshold and found Optimus staring out his window, slowly drinking a flagon of energon. He more sat than sipped, however, staring long and silent like a patient rock through winter cold and summer heat. He was not even aware the room was occupied.

She loudly cleared her throat. "Um, Optimus?" Her voice sounded small but powerful in the dead silent room. Cody glanced from her to him. "I was wondering if it'd be alright to go out with Cody Friday night. Can I?"

Silence.

Then Rusti thought she heard Optimus hum ever so softly to himself. A cold darkness flitted past her eyes and she glanced left and right searching for the shadow that nearly ran into her. Her skin pricked with cold and her heart stopped for a second.

What was that? A presence? Her imagination? There was nothing else in the room but the three of them.

Maybe she was just tired. Maybe she was still worried about the volleyball incident-which neither Optimus nor Roddi cared to discuss with the school. But how would that affect her now?

"Optimus?" She asked again. "Optimus, can I go?"

Silence. Then Prime turned to her in his high-backed chair and leaned against his desk, his arms pushing digipads over the edge. They clanked and clamored as they hit the floor. "Have you ever thought how limited we are with our nourishment? It's not right that so many other species of peoples get to enjoy a plethora of energy sources and we have one thing that can taste either good or bad. Energon does not come in chicken flavor."

Cody did everything he could not to break out laughing. He allowed himself a smile, but knew the moment was not funny. Rusti stared at Prime for a long silent moment. There was nothing rational about that entire statement. Perhaps she should discuss this with Ultra Magnus, or Rodimus or someone who can look into it. Maybe First Aid should know. She drew a deep breath and tried another tactic.

"I'm sorry we bothered you, Optimus. I wasn't sure how busy you were today-"

"You are NEVER a bother, Rusti."

Well, at least he acknowledged she was there. That was a good thing.

Then he started to sing: "Ten little monkeys jumping on the bed. One fell off and broke his head. Mama called the doctor and the doctor said: 'no more monkeys jumping on the bed."

Rusti stepped back, slowly, cautiously. She shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. Cody followed her and they left the room.

"Good night, Rusti." Optimus softly said to no one. He sipped his energon and just stared into nothing. He felt perfectly calm. Perfectly quiet.

"I don't see what the big deal is." Rodimus answered after Rusti explained Prime's odd behavior. "At least he's not running around acting like some idiot trying to pretend he knows what he's doing."

Rusti couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Roddi, it isn't like Optimus to say things like that. And it's not like him to act like that; just sitting there doing nothing."

She did not like how he smiled. "You mean he's actually taking a break? Ohmigod! We're all fall to ruin!" Then Rodimus shouted: "HEY WORLD, OPTIMUS PRIME TOOK A BREAK FROM HIS WORK! WAHOOOOOO!" Then he quieted down and lowered the circuit board he worked on. "Now, what's the real reason you're here, hu? Come to help me assemble this thing? Wanna pretend you're a circuit linker or an alpha chip?"

Rusti allowed herself to smile a little, but it was not a real smile. "No, Roddi. Cody wants to take me out to the VR park Friday night. I know the court said I can't go anywhere unless I were chaperoned. So I thought I'd take Steeljaw. He can keep me out of trouble-"

Rodimus lightened up like a Christmas tree. "A date! Rusti, I'm proud of you! Yeah, most sure!" Then he pointed to Cody. "You take good care of my lady-friend, or I'll rearrange your face, got it?"

Rusti's eyes about bugged out. "Roddi!"

"Hey, I used to change your diapers. It's my prerogative." Rodimus turned the board around for Rusti and Cody to examine. "Whaddya think? Does it look good? Will do the job?"

To Rusti, it just looked like a regular Transformers board; a flat, flexible metal surface punctuated by several 'negative spaces', four main linkers, two 'alpha chips' and a ribbon of semi-organic wire used to interlink with subspace pockets. "What's it for?" She asked carefully.

"Oh, I'm going to put Optimus in a subspace pocket for a while to keep him nice and fresh for the next hundred years. After all, we all need a break and I thought playing Rip Van Winkle is the best vacation anyone could have."

Cody finally piped up: "Sounds more like you're putting him in storage for future use." And he grinned.

"Exactly!" Rodimus smiled with enthusiasm. "Heya Rus, you're actually dating someone with brains! That's wonderful! Now you kids run along. I have work to do."

They left him alone. Once they made a good measure of distance from Roddi's office, Rusti leaned against the wall, her face twisted in anxiety. "I don't know what's wrong. Neither of them are acting normal."

Cody rubbed her arm with a smile. "I don't think it's anything serious, Rusti. But if it will make you feel better, perhaps we can talk to Ultra Magnus."

But Magnus was not available. At the last minute, he was called away to assist in a fight on Pluto. There was no other information. Rusti reported her little experience to First Aid. Concern etched his face plates, but no answer came from him, either.

"We'll keep an extra optic on it," he promised. "But until I can examine them personally, there's not a lot I can do."

------------------------------------

The rest of the week encroached upon Friday like warm weather in a cold year. Rusti could not pay close enough attention in school. She thought constantly of her evening with Cody and how nice it was to have something special to look forward to. And amazingly enough, she had neither visions nor nightmares those few nights leading to the weekend.

That Friday afternoon, she returned to Fort Max and changed her clothes. Just before Cody came to pick her up in his mom's car, Rusti thought about stopping to say good-bye to Prime. But his office door was locked. She sighed and tried to connect to him. A coldness settled over her mind and it distressed her.

_It's alright._ came Prime's response. _Rodimus informed me you're going out. _

_I tried asking- _

_No, no. Please, have a good time. Stay safe. _

she touched the door and wished again that he could just tell her he loved her.

Cody took her to a 'Micky D's' restaurant before hitting the VR park. They played laser tag and took a trip through the reconstructed House of Mirrors. They took a break and ate banana splits as they watched little kids play in the ball booth. The two caught gazes more than once and about the fourth time, Rusti couldn't help but giggle.

"What're your plans after school graduation, Rusti?" Cody asked after another spoonful of banana and chocolate.

"Don't know yet," she answered with a shrug. Dezi's trying to get into EDC, though Mom and Dad don't know that yet. I really haven't decided."

"What do you really want to do?"

She scraped the sides of the dish so that the chocolate and hot fudge dripped closer to the ice cream and whip topping. Then Rusti scooped a spoonful of 'yummy' and enjoyed it before answering him. "I want to stay in Autobot City. I don't know what I'm going to do. I want to draw or paint. The idea of being a professional or a teacher or a doctor really doesn't appeal to me."

"How about an explorer?"

She shrugged. "I thought about politics, too. But that's not my thing. Might be fun to be an ambassador like my grandma. But my folks frown on stuff like that. It's enough to make me find something I know they'd really disapprove of and do it."

"Like becoming a sanitation engineer?"

She almost laughed through her nose. "No. Maybe a professional football player or a reporter."

Cody smiled broadly. "A football player. Yeah, I can see that."

She smiled coyly and ate another spoonful of ice cream.

They joined in a game of hide and seek with another group of schoolmates before the park closed for the night. Cody escorted her to the car and drove away before the crowds exited en mass. Both were rather quiet for a while.

They passed the last street lamp and headed to Gateside Road. The car wound this way, that and straightened before another series of turns met them. Rusti finally sighed, "I'm really worried about them, Cody. Optimus and Roddi, I mean."

"Well, I don't know either of them well, but you're right. Something is kinda odd. Have you seen other things they've done or said?"

"Well, that dream I had several nights ago."

"Yeah. That was weird."

"Or that glowing sphere that hit me square in the face."

"What's that? I don't remember you mentioning that before, Rus."

Rusti frowned, forgetting that she really didn't mention it to anyone, even when she and Roddi talked a few minutes after. "I did homework in my room after you left and this ball of glowing light shot around my room and hit me. I lost consciousness for a while then went to bed and fell asleep. How could a figment of my imagination do that?"

Cody remained quiet for a moment. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"No. Not really."

"Do you think it was an alien intruder, maybe?"

"No. Max would have registered it as a life form."

Cody nodded, "So, you're saying it wasn't a life form at all; just a sphere of energy?"

Rusti batted her eyes in disbelief. "Yeah. Energy. But, can energy direct itself?"

Cody shook his head. "Only if it was a life form of its own. Only life chooses to move in a certain direction."

"Unless . . ." Rusti thought her words carefully, "unless the sphere was psychic. Max can't register psychic energy."

"I think you definitely need to discuss this with Ultra Magnus when he gets back."

"I will. Maybe he can talk to Optimus and Roddi and get things straightened out." Rusti thought hard. Flashes of the nightmare/vision she had at school blinked in her mind. "I wish I could figure out why I've had these problems lately." She squirmed in her seat and thought it time to discuss things with her counselor.

Her eyes caught sight of a figure standing in the middle of the road. "Cody!" She called

"I see it!" Cody slammed on the brakes and by all laws of nature and physics, he should have had plenty of room between the car and the figure. But they still hit it.

"Ohmigod!" Rusti undid her seat belt and jumped out the car, ignoring Cody's plea for her to stay put. She rounded the car as he got out and stopped dead short. Her heart shot into her throat and she swallowed air. She could not even scream.

"No," her voice wailed. "No!"

Cody rounded the front of the Saturn and froze dead still. The Freak lay on the ground. Armless, its long dark legs lifted and slid back down on the ground. Cody checked the front of his car and found the hood and bumper dented.

Rusti started to cry. She sank to her knees, bowed over and wept. It could not be real! Cody approached and laid his hands on her shoulders. "Come on, let's just get out of here."

"It's it!" She wailed. "That's the thing! That's the Freak! Tell it to go away. Please!"

Cody simply looked at it for a moment or two, really unable to stare at it for long. It, whatever it was, seemed to resemble a scream on two kneeless legs. He helped Rusti to her feet and guided her back to her side of the car. Another car approached from the south. But Cody did not want to make a scene.

Rusti froze by the car door. There the Freak stood, staring at them with no eyes. Its mouth remained agape.

" . . . go away . . ." Rusti whispered. "Please. Please, just go away."

"I SEARCHED THE FUTURE AND FOUND DEATH."

And something dark and filthy tried to push its way into her mind. Rusti snapped and she screamed and attacked the Freak, slamming into it with both her fists. Cody tried to get her to control herself as the other car came closer. But Rusti wrested herself free of his grip and screamed even louder, this time shouting at it in a language Cody never heard spoken. The other car pulled up and the driver disembarked just as the Freak squealed and backed away from Rusti without walking. It was the weirdest thing Cody swore he ever saw.

But the squeal turned into a sudden terror-induced scream. All three people held their ears and bowed over in pain as the scream exploded in an ear-shattering sound. Rusti could feel the vibrations through all her innards, under her skin and it echoed through her head. She fell to her knees as the scream scraped her backbone and pinched her scalp like fire ants and a ghastly echo followed but Rusti did not hear it end.


	2. Nightmares

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 2

NIGHTMARES

"When I die I shall surely go to heaven, for I have already been to hell."  
-Eastman and Laird's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Three people stormed after Prime as he stomped down the hall in medbay's third floor. Ambassador Duko snapped, whined and pleaded for a few moment's worth of Optimus' time. But Prime already turned Duko to someone else's care.

"This is simply uncalled for!" His cane whacked the metal floor with each long step. "I demand-"

Prime swung around and the EDC officer, Ambassador Duko and Skitter, the rep from Fort Sagittarius, all froze instantly. "Demand?" He echoed. "Did you just use that 'D' word in front of me, Ambassador?"

Duko's mouth dropped. "W-well, yes. That is, my mate and I are here-"

"I am fully aware of that." Optimus answered. "But I do not recall your entitlement to every whim and fancy you please while I am not."

Again, all three followers wordlessly stared.

"After all," Prime continued, "I am the slave of every soldier, flier and scraper in this city. I listen to all their sob stories and forgive their sins. I feed them and give them something to occupy their precious time. Then I get people like you who follow me around like a pack of lost dogbots demanding more than what I can give at one time!"

Those three could not look him in the optic and Optimus pointed down the hallway. "I am going to visit Rusti. You may stand outside and wait. Or you can get back to me TOMORROW."

All the opponents Prime fought for centuries were made of metal and energon. Now he faced an enemy he could not see or hit with a laser.

Never did he envision dying and returning to life. What, he often wondered, what would that do to a person's psyche?

No one seemed to act differently toward him. No one seemed to think it peculiar or freaky that their Prime, their zhat'at'raht, walked among them like a god reincarnated, alive and well.

Well, perhaps not 'well'. Perhaps not even entirely whole. Optimus recalled his depressed behavior prior to Cybertron's 'rebirth.' Was it caused by the Matrix, or was it merely a symptom of his resuscitation? Resurrection? Prime thought of that for a moment longer. No, he was not resurrected. It would imply immortality and Optimus knew he was still mortal.

Most Autobots are either naive or negligent when it comes to their leaders. An Autobot Prime is not entirely 'himself'. A Prime is one person with a soul and a will. But the Matrix chooses its own bearers. And Autobot leaders are, in part, the physical embodiment of the Matrix. Optimus often wondered who was doing the speaking and the fighting; he, or the Matrix. Sometimes he'd catch himself saying or doing things or making decisions that he otherwise would not say or do. And the crazy thing of it is, Optimus did not even have to have the Matrix with him to be influenced by its power.

The Matrix itself is a living entity. It thinks and chooses. It acts and reacts according to its own understanding-which explains the Dinobots and their child-like mentality. The Matrix infused them with life according to what it understood about Dinosaurs. The Matrix tried to imitate life as it was represented on Earth. Otherwise, the Dinobots would have been given Cybertronian personalities, like Blaster and Perceptor, not like those of Earth, or what it understood of Earth, which meant sometimes the Matrix misinterpreted information.

The Matrix was not a god, but an entity with a soul constructed differently than that of sentient creatures. Its bearers were always carefully chosen to compensate for imbalances of the times.

Then why, Optimus often asked, did the Matrix allow him die in 2005, then allow the Quintessons to bring him back to life in 2007 and again in 2011? Why? He wanted to stay home!

WHY? WHY? WHY?

Even Vector Sigma gave him no answers. But then, Vector Sigma had a problem with arrogance. And perhaps that sounded arrogant of a humble Autobot to think of a super computer as arrogant, but Optimus held little reverence for something that created evil things.

Yes, evil things. Vector Sigma had no qualms about giving Decepticons life. He was responsible for perpetuating the war-just as responsible as Optimus himself and Alpha Trion before him. Guilty! They were all guilty of atrocities! If there was truly a god, why did He allow evil to continue? Optimus repented that last line of thought. He knew Primus was real. He knew because he had seen Primus face to face. Not just in dreams or visions, but when he lay scattered across a desert floor.

The years following his return to life were filled with a great deal of personal and political struggles. The Nebulons became an issue of irritation after the creation of the 'Masters.

Then the religious wars began and . . . Optimus decided he did not want to follow that line of thought. Too many lives wasted because of prejudice. Too great a cost-the least of which was a valuable ally. The Junkions might have been a bit quirky a race, but they were good friends and Prime remembered Hot Rod mourned their deaths until his own death in 2013.

How events can twist and change! And now Optimus found himself in yet another dark place. How could he explain his feelings to anyone? How could he express them, even to himself? Sometimes he felt exhausted, as if something were feeding on him.

Now wasn't that ridiculous? It made him feel so strange. His mind would space out and thoughts melted together so that nothing made sense. And when things don't make sense, he would have to sit for a while and analyze why they didn't make sense.

And of late, Optimus had been doing more analyzing than working. Uncompleted work piled high atop his desk. He once dreamed of swimming in a lake made of digipads and canceled appointments. Other times he'd feel pretty good-a little too good, perhaps, and he'd catch himself softly humming some tune he had not heard in meganiums. And he'd catch himself chuckling at the dumbest things.

Well, everyone could use a good laugh, no doubt.

And then . . . then there was Rusti.

For some peculiar reason, the Matrix found Rusti fascinating, much like it was with Spike. It constantly nagged Prime about her; what she's doing, how she does it, what she thinks. Why? What was the attraction? She was a girl, not unlike other girls.

Well . . . and here Optimus had to laugh. That was not entirely true. Rusti was gifted, not inherited from her grandfather. However, Spike seemed to understand Autobot protocols in ways that no other Human understood them. Spike was even able to read Autobot in just a few months! He was the bravest soul Optimus ever encountered and to this day, Optimus grieved for Spike Witwicky.

Now he had his granddaughter. She touched him in ways no one had in meganiums. She woke something that long since slept; cold embers of a soul that once remembered happiness.

Precious sunshine. Baby bird.

He sat there watching her sleep. She lay so still, so peaceful. It made him feel good just to be with her.

His soul wanted to laugh.

But it was not the laughter of happiness.

Darkness swirled inside him like a cyclone in slow motion. Ah, the colors! Swirl! Swirl! Like ice cream, like the aurora borealis. Like the cloud pillars in the Orion Nebula. Swirl, swirl!

And he chuckled ever so softly because he did not want to wake her. He fingered the rim of his flagon of energon, smiling because the swirl inside tickled.

Dark and grey and red and blue and green and it all twisted; a bitter wind in his warm soul. Swirl, swirl.

"Ten little monkeys jumping on the bed.  
One fell off and broke his head.  
Mama called the doctor and the doctor said  
no more monkeys jumping on the bed."  
Optimus chuckled softly.  
"Ten little monkeys jumping on the bed.  
One fell off and broke his head.  
Mama called the doctor and the doctor said  
no more monkeys jumping on the bed."

Rusti stirred with a deep breath and moved aching joints and a head full of pain. "Op-t'mus . . . why are you singing a jump rope song? You're supposed to go down in number each time you sing it again."

"Is that so?" Optimus softly dared. "Perhaps I need to change the verse:

"Ten little Autobots walking on the line  
One fell off and lost his mind.  
God called the doctor and the doctor chimed:  
Just move on and leave it behind."

It got Rusti's attention and she forced herself to sit up in spite of her headache. "Why are you singing? I've never heard you sing before."

"I used to sing. Long, long time ago."

It was like talking to someone she'd never met. Rusty blinked and tried to wrinkle her brow, but it hurt. "I . . . I don't think you answered my other question, Optimus."

"And what's that, Sweetheart?"

Again she blinked. How often had she heard THAT? Now she became a little frightened. "Um, why are you singing a jump rope song?"

"It's a catchy little tune. Do you like my variation?"

"I-I guess-"

"It's very accurate, you know."

"God talked to a doctor?"

Optimus' demeanor slumped as sadness fell over him in the matter of microseconds. "I wanted to be a doctor." He answered with a voice filled with regret. He could not look at her.

At first Rusti could not grasp what the conversation meant, but somehow the foggy head cleared enough to realize what was going on: Optimus was talking with his heart. She decided to tread very carefully, very lightly so as not to destroy the moment of personal revelation. "I'm sorry, Optimus," she answered softly. "It must be very hard for you at times."

The sadness seemed to lift and Prime shifted his position so that he was not hiding behind his legs. He sat cross-legged and leaned over a little. "There are shadows of the past chasing me. I don't know what to tell them." He paused for a moment: "Rusti, didn't you say that I'm supposed to go down in number every time I sing the song?"

He changed the freakin' subject! No wonder Roddi would get so mad with him! Just bits and pieces of information tossed to the wind like some fool tossing bread bits to a flock of birds. Rusti clenched her teeth over it and set her lips tightly. She forced herself to remain patient, "Yes, Optimus."

He nodded and fell quiet. She waited, but he said nothing more. Rusti groaned inwardly, frustrated enough to choke it out of him. She lay back and thought sleep would be best right now.

"Rusti?" His voice ringed with curiosity.

But Rusti was not in the mood for another weird question. "What?" she grounded.

"What happened last night?"

Rusti looked at him again and noticed a sense of normalcy entered his optics. She wondered what to do. She really wasn't in the mood to do any talking. "Can I sleep a little more and then tell you, Optimus? I'm tired and my head's pounding with a jackhammer."

"Very well, Rusti. Let me know when you're ready."

Rusti would have rolled her eyes were she not in so much pain. She merely closed them and felt Optimus' Presence in her mind. He Touched her just as she fell back to sleep.

She was better the following day. Saturday! She did have homework, but really, she didn't think she could concentrate. Dinobot football was out of the question. The Dino-dingbats would most likely be upset, but it wasn't her fault Cody ran -

Cody!

"Ohmigod." She slipped into her light blue jeans, snapped on a pair of flats and raced out her room. Lug, Hosehead's companion, caught her in the dash and compensated for her speed by swinging her once. He surprised her so that when he set her back on her feet, she landed on her butt.

Dignity lost, Rusti glared at him.

"Where in the galaxy are you running to so fast?"

"Cody. Last night. The car. Is he okay?"

"The car?"

"No! Cody! We fainted-"

"Oh, yeah. Come with me." He smiled broadly and helped her to her feet. Rusti followed him but needed to find a phone and call his mom. She's probably worried. Lug led her downstairs, right and down two hallways. They stopped at a guest room and Rusti peered through the open door.

"Cody?" She timidly called and stepped over the threshold.

"Over here, Rusti." He greeted.

She turned left and there he sat in bed, his mother in a chair next to him. Ms. Greydon welcomed Rusti with a warm sweet smile as Lug waved good-bye.

"Hello, hon."

"Hi." Rusti returned the smile. "I just remembered bits of last night and Cody's car and-"

"It's okay. I'm alright." Cody sat up straight and brought his legs up to make sitting room for her.

Rusti took the cue and sat at the edge of the bed. Flashes of the Freak's image snapped in her mind one after another and Rusti ordered her mind to calm down. But her expression said everything. Ms. Greydon grasped her hand and squeezed it.

"Don't worry about it, Hon. The insurance will handle the car. All that's important is that you and Cody are alright."

"I don't-I can't believe that something-" Rusti choked up with cold realization. She could not breathe and her eyes went wide. "It was there." Her voice did not rise above a whisper. "I can't believe . . . ohmigod, Cody." She turned to him and tears choked her. "It was trying to kill us."

Cody remained silent for a moment. His beautiful eyes concentrated on her and he laid a comforting hand on her arm for only a moment. "The behavior is not consistent with warranted murder, Rusti. I don't think it was trying to hurt so much as it was trying to communicate."

Both women stared at him as if he were crazy. But Cody did not change his theory. Rusti struggled to think of some way to refute his idea. "What about the scream?"

"I dunno." Cody shook his head.

"Wait," Rusti snapped her fingers. "Optimus said he'd look through the archives-"

"He saw it too?"

"Yes. Just after the . . . volleyball . . . incident." Rusti's voice trailed off as she wondered if the Freak was the Voice in her head that caused the ball to explode." She thought a little further and realized Cody and his mom were staring at her. Rusti shook her head and decided not to chase that subject. "Anyway, Optimus said he'd look into it-"

"What's he doing right now?" Cody glanced at his mom. She remained quiet, but pensive.

Rusti just mentally Touched Prime and found him willing to Talk. She smiled just a little. "Will you come with me?"

Cody nodded and she and Ms. Greydon left the room for him to dress. Rusti leaned against the wall and thought about the accident. The moment's silence haunted her.

Rusti thought about saying something to quell the discomfort, "I'm sorry about the car, Ms. Greydon."

Her pretty eyes fell on Rusti with love and sadness but that brought Rusti no comfort. Ms. Greydon put her arm across Rusti's shoulders and hugged her. "Now don't worry, Rusti, honey. Things will be just fine. I'm sure that thing that's been bugging you is an alien of some sort." Then Ms. Greydon stood away from the girl, her arm attached to Rusti as though they were an extension of each other. "Does your mother know?"

"No. Not yet. Unless Optimus said something." Rusti could not look her in the eye. She thought about her family and wished they could be the supportive, loving family that Cody had with his mom. Rusti knew nothing of Cody's dad, except that his mom raised him all alone. Ms. Greydon wiped hair from the edge of Rusti's face and the girl responded with eye contact. Ms. Greydon kissed her on the forehead and Rusti felt warm and comforted.

No wonder Cody was so kind!

Light flickered from the wall behind Ms. Greydon and the ladies turned as the wall flickered like an old-style TV set turned on. Both ladies wore astonishment but only Rusti approached it.

Ms. Greydon was about to tell her to be careful, that maybe it was a malfunction in the city. The wall's color faded into a scene like an old black and white movie with rough edges. Rusti watched as a silent film played, displaying a scene of two huge robots fighting. She did not recognize either robot, except that one was clearly Decepticon. The landscape had to be Cybertronian. Not one tree or blade of grass marred that cold sunless landscape. A building exploded behind the fighting robots and a terrible dark thing emerged.

No, not one thing, millions of things all moving and churning together. They tumbled over one another and the entire mass rose like a tidal wave from the obliterated building only to crash on the ground nearby and the metal flooring disappeared under their appetite in seconds. Rusti watched as the two robots struggled. The Autobot fell first. The Decepticon fell thereafter, blowing from the inside.

"What the hell!"

Rusti turned as Cody emerged from his room, dressed in a long sleeved shirt and black jeans. His eyes were wide with horror. His mom backed against the other wall, shaking her head.

"I don't know." Rusti answered quietly.

Cody took Rusti's hand and turned to his mom, "Mom, I'll be home later. I'll give you a call."

Ms. Greydon managed to peel her eyes off the scene and gazed at her son. "Okay." Her voice softly wavered in fear. She slid a few inches over before reaching in Cody's room for her coat and purse. She headed down the hall on the way out when she turned and pointed at him. "Be home for dinner, young man." She warned.

"I will." He promised. And Rusti led him up the next level to Prime's office.

Optimus appreciated the music Ambience played. It wasn't the hard-hitting go-go-go stuff that set his nerves on edge. He made it a point to ask about the collection she played so he could play it in private. One song finished and another started without interruption by the announcer. It was a wonderfully familiar song, something out of the mid 1980's. For a moment, he thought how nice it would be to dance to it, and how nice it would be to dance with Rusti.

That was comforting, wasn't it? The slow, sad melody encouraged him to daydream for a moment longer so that in his mind, Optimus could wrap his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder and the contact felt so good. Her arms rested about him and it was so nice; just he, she and the music.

But the music faded and Optimus returned to the real world where things like that could never happen. He fingered a digipad of unfinished work. It was a nice dream. But things like that could never, in a million meganiums, really happen.

Someone whispered.

No, that wasn't right. Optimus was alone in the office.

The goddamned voices were coming back, weren't they?

Five whispering voices followed. Twenty. A hundred. Their words came rushed, unintelligent. They rambled, trying to break though an unknown barrier, maybe even the barrier of death. A million voices topped one another, a crowd, a throng a planet filled with the voices of the dead.

"Leave me alone." Prime bowed over and covered his head with his hands.

And then a scream silenced them all, ending the moment in a climax of terror. Prime flinched as though in pain and jumped from his chair.

COMMANDER? Max's voice interrupted the disquieting sounds and Optimus welcomed it like medication.

He took composure and gripped the back of his chair, not prepared to sit down yet. "Yes, Max."

MISS WITWICKY REQUESTS AUDIENCE.

That was odd. Why didn't Rusti just flat out ask him? "Let them in, Max."

The doors swished open and the teenagers entered. Prime all but ignored Cody. He stared at Rusti's pretty red hair and remembered the nice (this was hard to admit) . . . fantasy of he and she dancing and he tried to imagine what it would be like to touch her hair.

Wait a minute! This was wrong! He was a . . . Primus, he was a robot, an Autobot leader, and he had no business thinking about such matters!

Optimus shoved the idea aside, but doing so left him despondent. The one thing he truly wanted in life, other than death, was to . . . to . . . l-l-looove . . . (SAY IT, DAMNIT! SAY IT!) LOVE! Love Rusti!

Prime found himself trembling and turned his attention to Cody and he shoved all personal matters aside. This was business, no matter how tired he felt, or how uncooperative his mind wanted to be, it was business. Maybe their reason for being here was simple and could be easily remedied and he could return to his silent darkness.

At least the whispering noises were gone.

"Hi, Optimus." Rusti greeted him with an uneasy smile.

At least she wasn't holding Cody's hand, Prime thought.

"I'm sorry to bother you."

Her sweet gentle voice put him at ease and Optimus felt well enough to sit in his chair and attend the moment. "I'm glad you came." Well, that just spilled out and it probably sounded absurd.

"Optimus, I remembered about Cody when I got up, and I went to see him and while me and his mom waited outside his room, we saw something weird on the wall, like it was a television set and then it just faded out."

Prime's innards ran cold. "As if it were something from the past, perhaps?" He asked carefully.

"Yes!" Rusti's face brightened. "Yes, we saw two robots fighting and then this black wave destroyed a building and attacked the two robots like a-like a nest of ants."

Prime tilted his head just slightly. He struggled to recall such an event. Maybe it was something that did not happen in his lifetime.

Oh! Oh, Primus! It meant that he was not the only one suffering from delusions! Someone else- Prime knew he had to handle this carefully. "Rusti, did Ms. Greydon see this, too?"

Cody answered for her instead, "yes. Both of them saw the same thing. My mother went home and Rusti said that you were going to do a little research on that . . . thing we ran into last night."

Prime bowed his head in his hand.

"You forgot," Rusti assumed.

"I did," he mourned. And he never forgot things! He used to know how to manage his time but now his laziness kept him from performing his duties. He was failing and this could mean everything he worked so hard for would collapse.

No, he was being paranoid!

Okay, Prime told himself, one thing at a time. "We can look it up right now," he suggested.

She smiled. Rusti smiled! That was so precious! Optimus helped them to the top of his desk and he swiftly plucked up digipads and stacked them. Rusti sat on one pile but Cody remained standing. Prime refused to give into the temptation of touching her hair. If Cody weren't around . . . Optimus settled to the task at hand, actually glad someone else was there with him. "First," he snapped on the flatscreen monitor. "we'll need a description. Computer, Dimensions program, please."

The monitor flickered on, fell blank then zapped back with a light blue background and a flickering cursor. Prime turned to Rusti and pointed his hand toward the monitor. It was her turn.

"Um, it's about six feet tall-"

"Eight." Cody corrected.

"Huh?"

"It's about eight feet."

Rusti wrinkled her brows, but now that she considered it, Cody was right. She nodded. "It's about eight feet tall with legs like a pair of tweezers."

A set of tweezers appeared on the screen.

"It has a triangular head."

The screen displayed a triangle at the top of the 'tweezers'.

"No," Rusti objected. "The top of the triangle is down." She watched the computer flip the triangle and the girl shook her head. "This is too slow, Optimus." She complained.

Intrigued, Prime rested his elbow on the desktop and his chin rested on his hand. "Do what you need to do, Rusti." He answered. Rusti ignored his uncharacteristic posture and glued her eyes to the monitor. Prime glanced at Cody with a private smile. He couldn't wait to see Cody's response.

The screen wavered and Cody's mouth dropped as the computer changed the configurations of the drawing on its own. The triangle head squared off and horns shot from the top of the head. A visor etched its way across the face. The mouth, drawn as though in a scream, appeared without the computer being told what to do. The torso-less legs were rounded down and the figure shaded out in dark brown and black at first, then faded into purple and molted with tan.

Rusti drew a deep breath and Prime's attention drifted from Cody to the screen, closely examining the figure that he too, had seen.

"How did you do that?" Cody asked her, breathless.

Rusti turned to her companion and silently shrugged. "When I was nine, I was injected with alien DNA. The results have been . . . surprising." She smiled wryly when Cody's eyes scrutinized her like a bug in a petri dish.

Prime broke the moment with his authoritative voice: "Computer, reference image on screen." The computer started accessing files and linking to several other libraries.

Cody's face twisted in perplexity. "You never told me you could do things like that!"

Rusti's eyes glued themselves to the monitor as the computer leafed through hundreds of databases around the world and linked to other databases in other Autobot Fortress-cities. "You never asked me." She answered quietly.

"Hmph." Optimus' optics sparked and Rusti copied his smile.

Cody couldn't keep his eyes off her. "So . . . what else can you do? Can you make stop lights go out, that kind of thing?"

"I don't-" Rusti cut herself off and turned. Icy fingers made lines down her back but when she turned, nothing stood behind her.

First a masculine voice whispered inaudibly. It was joined with another and another. All three whispered from the walls. Optimus, Cody and Rusti bounced their eyes from one wall to another as one voice started speaking,

I looked to the sun  
They danced  
I looked to the sun  
As they laughed  
I looked to the sun  
And they played dead  
I looked to the sun  
Cry, cry, their souls are dead  
I looked to the sun  
The voices started to fade back into the recesses of the cold metal walls:  
I looked to the sun  
I looked to the sun  
BUT  
IT  
WAS  
NOT THERE.  
The lights flashed out. Rusti screamed. The very next minute the lights came back and the computer monitor flashed: NO REFERENCE. NO REFERENCE.

After a long moment, Cody slipped his arm across Rusti's shoulders. Her face fell pale with fear. "What does that mean, Optimus Prime?" He asked quietly.

"One of two things:" Optimus did not take his optics off the monitor, "Either the creature or thing that you saw is a new alien species. Or it doesn't exist."

"That's not true!" Rusti snapped. "We saw it! It damaged Cody's car!"

Prime looked at her in sad silence. Then he turned back to the monitor, tracing the image with his finger. He really didn't know what to think.

The intercom bleeped and Optimus pressed an area on his monitor. "This is Prime." He answered deadpan.

"Commander," Strike Back's voice filtered through a static background. "I think you need to come see this."

"See what, Strike Back? Where are you?"

"Communications, sir. At the fountain."

"I'm on my way."

Rusti and Cody followed the Autobot leader to the Communications area/Eastgate entrance to Fort Max. Along the forty-foot wall of 'Communication Station' (coined by Blaster) flickered a huge scene like a movie or, rather, something more like a photograph that stood still then moved then stood still again. Prime watched, wordless. A long scene depicting the destruction of Crystal City paused and moved every few seconds.

"What IS that?" someone asked.

Optimus could not answer. His own mind raced back, long before there was an Earth, or a group of renegade Autobot warriors. He remembered that city: the pride of Cybertron. Crystal City was called the City of Peace by the Autobot Council of Elders.

Millions of people died horribly when the city collapsed. Ambassadors from other worlds were killed and treaties, necessary to keep Cybertron in supply of power and raw materials, were broken. While the destruction of Crystal City was not the start of THE War, it was a dark moment that perhaps sparked enough anger in many Autobots to pick a fight.

Ironhide once mentioned how he grieved for that city. He lived there once. "Nothin' was there no more." he said, "Not one soul surv'ahved. Not one article weren't broken. The Constr'cticons leveled it all."

And maybe that was why Ironhide was among the first of the Autobot underground rebellion.

Optimus pulled himself back to the moment and turned to Strike Back. "Analysis?"

Strike Back turned to Quasar who kept scanning the apparition. She shrugged and rather than passing her information through Strike Back, maneuvered around him. "Scanners indicate it's not there, Commander," she reported.

"What?" Optimus was hoping he hear wrong.

"It's not real." She confirmed. "We see it, but it's not producing any energy, it's not projecting any light waves, there's no radiation, there's no microwave frequencies; zippo. Even Max says he's not aware of what's going on."

Prime watched as Silverbolt stepped to the wall and touched it. His hand lay over the image as though it were a TV screen, or a painting. "Then . . . what is it?" He was asking himself, not her.

Prime's optics diverted to Rusti and there behind her stood the evil Freak. It did nothing, said nothing; a statue frozen in a hideous screaming expression. Optimus' optics darkened dangerously. Don't you touch her, he thought. Don't you dare touch her!

It folded up and wasn't there any more.

Optimus suddenly felt very tired and wondered where Rodimus was in all this.

Rodimus sat on the floor, slowly rocking back and forth as he signed his name to every digipad that lay around him like a scatter of leaves on a windy autumn day. He tossed aside the one in his hand and swept up another. He glanced at the first sentence:

PERIMETER CHECK: WEST CASCADE. 4:28 A.M. SPARKABOT FIZZLE, REPORTING.

Rodimus softly laughed and scrolled down, down the long boring report. He caught words like 'forest' and 'road' and 'tree'. He shook his head. "Boring, boring, boring." He muttered. "We need to spice this story up a bit."

So Roddi decided to input the following:  
SPARKABUTT FRAZZLED WENT TO THE FOREST IN THE LATE AT NIGHT.  
HE DANCED AND PRANCED AND FRANCED AROUND.  
THEN A DRAGON CAME FROM THE TREES AND INVITED HIM TO TEA.  
FRAZZLED WAS AN IDIOT, NOT REALIZING YOU DON'T TRUST DRAGONS THAT COME FROM TREES. SO HE WENT ALONG, MERRILY SKIPPING AFTER THE DRAGON.  
THE BEAUTIFUL DRAGON.  
THE DRAGON THAT WOULD DO HIM HARM.  
OH, SWEET, SWEET, DEATH IS SWEET.  
PUT HIM IN THE POT LIKE A BLOB OF MEAT.  
SWEET, SWEET, HIS BODY WAS SWEET.  
I HEARD HIM SCREAM IN PAIN; IT WAS A TREAT.

Rodimus reread his work and smiled, very pleased with himself. "That's better," he said quietly. He tossed the pad aside in the "done" pile and picked up another. All this work had become so much ritual anymore. People go about doing their little jobs, living their useless little lives and then they try to write it down in their reports. Well, the idiots really wouldn't amount to much anyway. Not really. There were very few people in Fort Max that were worth their energon in weight. Magnus . . . Magnus was a pretty cool guy. Oh, he'd get on Roddi's nerves from time to time. After all, the Major-general didn't know how to smile.

"Could always teach him." Rodimus thought aloud. He scanned the next digipad and sighed. Yet another boring scouting report from north-by-north-west. He tossed that one without another thought.

Optimus-ooh, Optimus was a nice thought. Now he was worth the competition. Roddi paused, his optics darkened. What to do with the Big Guy-oops.

Roddi laughed. The Big Guy was Magnus. No, no. Mustn't confuse the two. Maggy . . . Ulti? Ulti was a bit somber, but at least he could lighten up. Opti, well, there was a problem there. Opti had a serious problem.

Yes, he did.

Rodimus tapped the edge of the next digipad on his chin and stared at his office door. What was to be done with Optimus Prime?

He was always so glum.

And Roddi remembered Magnus telling of an incident several years ago. Optimus was doing something (Rodimus couldn't remember off hand) and he fainted in public. He was, apparently very sick. Mental illness was not uncommon among Transformers. But for an Autobot leader to become mentally ill . . . why that's a breach of trust. Things like that aren't allowed.

The Matrix would not allow such things, surely!

. . . that's right. The Matrix. Maybe it WAS the Matrix's fault. Maybe? Maybe?

That's right. Optimus was supposed to die. The Matrix ALLOWED him to die and the barbaric Quints thought they could play god and brought him back-oh, oh that was filthy! Filthy! A walking corpse, and he, Rodimus Prime, was too stupid and selfish to realize something was wrong! He should have killed that body then! He should have put Optimus back in the grave! But he was too stupid and selfish to think of such a thing. The resurrection was unholy! But all he could think of was "Op's back and I can go play again!"

Rodimus reached around and plucked up the circuit board he played with a little at a time. It was designed to create a neutrino field to trap Optimus and hold him. But he knew it really wasn't going to work. First of all, neutrinos were hard to come by, let alone harness. And secondly, how could he outsmart Prime enough to trap him?

Well, it was just a toy-thing anyhow. Roddi bounced the side of the board in his hand and thought for another moment. Perhaps it was time to turn the toy into a weapon. A really good weapon. He'd want to make Optimus' death as painless as possible, if he were to do it.

On the other hand-and here he put the board back down and swept up another pad-he loved Optimus. Optimus Prime was the center of the Autobot's existence and maybe his coming back to life was no accident.

"Couldn't be an accident." Rodimus said out loud. He sighed and started to read the pad now that his mind had cleared. He signed the document, indicating he read it and reached for another pad when the wall near the door flickered. Rodimus glanced, stunned, as the wall, acting like a movie screen, played a scene out of his own past, a scene he could not forget-the time when he lost his mind to the Hate Plaque.

How many lives did he take?

He ran right over their soft bodies as though they were insects. That was evil. Evil took over the galaxy that year. That was just as filthy as Optimus' body coming back to life on the mausoleum.

Rodimus saw his life as a requiem. It was HIS fault Optimus died to begin with. It was HIS fault the plaque got out of hand. It was HIS fault those seventeen people lost their lives during the plaque-YES, GODDAMN IT! SEVENTEEN! ALL OF THEM SQUASHED UNDER HIS TIRES LIKE SOFT LITTLE BUGS!

And Rodimus dropped the pad in his hands and bowed over and softly mourned. Roddi wept. All those dead people, Optimus' tortured soul. All because he could not do anything right.

What could he do to rectify it all? What could he do to cleanse his soul of this shame and evil? What could he do to make it all right again?

His mind drifted back to the ugly nightmare-the priests and their flowing robes and the alien wall and the sacrifice-that poor soul fed to the monster so that others could prosper.

Was that what he needed? A little ritual?

Humans performed religious rituals. There were enough religions on Earth to speak of the need for ritual.

Rodimus decided he would try a ritual cleansing. But it would take time to plan and prepare.

And then it dawned on him: why was the wall acting like a TV set?

And why did he just sit there for two and a half hours, doing nothing but rationalizing? And why was he thinking of killing Optimus?

What was wrong with him?

The incident at Communication Station set the whole city on stand-by alert. In spite of the pensive mood, however, Rusti still returned to school Monday. She was not looking forward to meeting Freak in the halls or in the classrooms. It was the last thing she needed, especially now.

Just before catching the bus, Rusti overheard EDC officers talking about the battle beyond Pluto-or on Pluto, or something to that degree. Three Autobots apparently died and Magnus had broken contact in the middle of a report. That would be enough to set Optimus and Roddi on pins and needles. One or the other of them will no doubt be taking off today to assist Magnus. Springer was still investigating a series of abductions and ritual killings.

Nothing seemed safe to her and Rusti held her books tightly as she entered first period civics classroom.

Jennifer wove in and around other students until she sat at the desk next to Rusti and rested her head on her back pack. "How was your weekend?" She asked quietly.

"Lousy." Rusti answered without looking.

"Mine too." Jenn quietly returned. "My folks got into another fight and my mom took off and hasn't come back yet."

The bit of sad news touched Rusti and she gazed at the slim girl with long dark hair and dark eyes. "I'm sorry, Jenn."

She shrugged. "It's not my fault. I just wish they could be happy with each other, you know? I thought when people married, they did it because they loved each other. I didn't know sex and good looks was such a big issue. I guess I'll never get married if that's the case. If I get pregnant, I'll gain weight and the guy will get turned off and find some other girl like my dad did." Jenn turned away, embarrassed by her tears.

Rusti sympathetically laid her hand on the girl's arm. Jenn forced a smile and wiped the tear from her cheek, careful as not to smudge the mascara from her eye.

"Good morning, Class." Ms. Channonbrow thunked a pile of thick books on her desk at the front of the room and closed the door as a last student slipped in.

Jenn leaned over a little to whisper: "Rusti, word has it that Tina bitch has something planned for you in PE."

"Miss Livier." Channonbrow's voice rang like a gong. "I hope the message you have for your friend there is for everyone."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Channonbrow. I was just asking about homework."

"Well, you're in luck, even if you did not pay attention last Friday, Miss Livier. We had none."

Rusti contacted Jenn with her eyes and merely mouthed the words THANK YOU.

Jenn nodded with a smile and rummaged her pack for book and paper.

Channonbrow stood in front of her desk and leaned against it. "Today, ladies and gentlemen, we will begin discussing the Constitution of the United States and how a simple piece of paper calls not for the rights of its citizens, but freedom based on their own integrity. We will study the necessity of integrity and how freedom demands more responsibility and self-control of its citizens than that of a tyrannical society."

Rusti was fascinated with the class because she often compared Human societies to the Autobot society. But she was still glad when second period bell rang and she made her way to the gym.

The girls gave Rusti a wide berth as she entered the locker room. Some of them gave her weird, fearful looks. Others acted a little smug, a bit threatened. Rusti paid them no mind and dressed down.

Tina and four of her friends approached Rusti as she slipped on her shoes. All the girls stared at her with hard, angry eyes. Tina folded her arms defensively. "We don't want you to play today, Witwicky."

Rusti remained cool as she folded her jeans and tucked them into her locker. She wasn't sure whether or not to say something.

"I said, stay away from class." Tina growled.

Rusti did not want to look her in the eye. She did not want to get into another fight and be sent back to the principal's office and possibly suspended. She folded her blouse and set it in the locker. Tina grabbed her by the shirt, her fingers gripping round Rusti's bra straps and their eyes locked.

A sense of cat-like calm touched Rusti. There was no need to be afraid of someone who really could not best her in a fight. She knew that. "Better be sure you can finish what you start, Tina." She answered quietly.

"Are you threatening me, Witwicky?" Tina spat through her teeth, her upper cheeks flushed slightly.

"You make a guess at it, Rezendes." Rusti glanced at the girl's whitened fists as she gripped more tightly.

"We don't need no freaks in class. We don't need no machine-loving freaks in the school."

"Is that what this is really about, Rezendes?" Rusti spired. "You hate Transformers?"

Tina let her go just like that and backed away. Rusti frowned, saddened to discover her guess was right. It wasn't because she was endowed with unnatural abilities, but because of her alliance.

"I guess it's common enough." She said in forgiving tones. "A lot of people hate the Transformers because they've lost loved ones during all the battles between the Autobots and Decepticons. Many people were enslaved by the Decepticons more than once."

"SHUT UP!" Tina swung for a strike and faster than anyone's eye could follow, Rusti caught her flying fist and the two girls locked eyes.

Coach Rhydt's head poked around the door and opened her huge mouth. "Girls! You're already late. Don't make me give you detention, too!"

Their fight broke. Rusti closed her locker and made her way toward volleyball, leaving Tina alone with her friends.

Sammy was serving on Rusti's side today. Rusti hoped things would go smoothly as they did last week, but something bothered her at the back of her head. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but she hoped with all her might it would not interfere with school. She was having enough trouble without something else disrupting her scholastic life.

The ball sailed over the net and Angie sent it right back. Nell beside Rusti jumped under the flying (new) ball and bounced it off her fists just so and Rusti slipped under it, sending it back to the other side.

Cali tried to whap it, but her strike turned it downward and Brandi leapt to the rescue, landing on her knees and punched it up with her clasped hands. Jo managed to send it back over the net.

Rusti whacked it back to the other side just as Tina emerged between the doors.

Rhydt blew the whistle and the ball fell with an echo. "Well, class, looks like we have been graced with Miss Rezendes' presence. Thank you, Tina, for joining us."

Rhydt didn't see it coming. Tina gave her a left cross, sending the coach to the floor. Tina calmly walked away, resuming her position at the net.

Rhydt called security.

P.E. was over the second security burst through the doors and escorted Tina off the floor. The ladies showered and took their time dressing while Rhydt explained between tears what had happened. She acted as though she were beaten to death and Rusti thought it cowardly of the teacher for not striking back. It's what Tina wanted. It's probably what she needed. Maybe the girl's home life was wretched and she was trying to reach out the only way she knew. At any rate, Tina now sat in the principal's office instead of Rusti and the young lady could not be more relived. In fact, Rusti was sure she could handle psych after this.

Third period bell rang and she swept up her books and meandered around other students toward class. She stopped abruptly when Cody stepped right in front of her. Rusti blinked.

Cody handed a single rose to her with a smile. Then he was gone again, lost in the stream of student bodies. Rusti stared at the flower as the five-minute bell rang.

Ohmigod, she thought. That is so sweet! She smiled and tried to make a dash to class as the hallway emptied.

----------------------------------------

DANCE 3

The city's streets rolled in cold November weather. Fog spirited in and around the old wooden buildings so that the colors faded even in the light of street lamps. Folks who knew the night was bad, scurried to and fro, as though fearful of the boogie man.

Optimus and Rodimus made their way down the same cobbled street in the cold, damp weather. The heavy mist trailed a layer of moisture atop everything and in the light, it looked as though the cold dim city were blanketed by dew fairies.

Optimus had been here before, long, long time ago. The old city resembled an eighteenth-century England-except there really was no daytime here. There was light and there was night and so the city always stood in near-oppressive dark. But the folks who lived on this world were a cheerful sort who did everything they could to welcome strangers and those in need.

This place wasn't a dream, so much as it was a Matrix memory. It remembered the details right down to the series of broken cobble stones in front of the sheriff's office.

Neither Autobot leader had any idea what time it was. The street clippity-clopped with the pattern of portor's hoofs as a young alien couple made their across town. Optimus and Rodimus entered the nearby coffee shop and glanced about. The light fell in warm circles round the café? bar and just above each table. The welcoming scent of cinnamon tea and rich dark coffee drafted in their faces. Optimus liked the smell, but Roddi found it a little too new.

A young Humanoid waitress lightly footed toward them, holding a menu close to her bosom. Her dark blue hair twisted up about her head and glistened with strands of pure gold. Her eyes glinted solid blue and sparked white like a crystal under light. Her heart-shaped face apt to smile easily and her glossy lavender lips parted with warmth and genuine consideration.

"Hi! Two?"

"Um . . .yes." A confused Optimus answered.

"Of course it is!" The girl chirped. "I never forget my Chosen! Optimus, you never could play games right! Come this way!"

The two leaders exchanged a glance and followed the girl to a window seating. She set menus before them and scribbled something over her pad.

Optimus stared at the menu and frowned when he watched the letters and pictures rearrange themselves into a face that looked like Torq III. Torq smiled, then faded from view and the menu resumed with its usual interplanetary selection.

Rodimus laughed. "Unicron Surprise!" He slid the menu to the left so Optimus could see it. But Prime only shook his head.

The waitress' solid eyes bounced from one Prime to the other, blinking each time she gazed at either Optimus or Rodimus.

"Tell me what you need and how to do it." She asked quietly.

Both Autobot leaders gave her their attention.

Optimus was just reading about the side dish of Multiformers with Corsidian stew next to it. "I'm afraid I don't follow."

The waitress frowned and a chair appeared behind her. She sat in it like a lady of royalty and again her large pupilless blue eyes blinked from one leader to the other. "You are my Chosen. You are sworn to serve me and my people. You must solve this riddle."

Rodimus shrugged. "Two and two is four."

"No." The waitress' voice came firm, "it is not. The walls are bleeding. I weep when I rest. I fight to hide the children but it seeks them out. Time is a lost commodity. And I fear for the girl."

Optimus tried to guess but could not. "What are you talking about?"

"The same thing that lures you to sing. The thing that speaks with many voices. Shalatta calls it Faceless Darkness. What does she mean?"

Roddi now understood: this was one of many, many personifications the Matrix presented itself. Sometimes it was a war god. Sometimes it was a teacher. Sometimes it even came to him as a lover. But why THIS personification? Why this very setting? Who were its children?

"I do not know." Optimus answered quietly.

Before their optics, the caf? disappeared, replaced by a black backdrop and the Matrix's root persona appeared in its graph-form. WE STRUGGLE TO REMAIN IN TACT. TIME BLEEDS HERE. THE CHILDREN ARE IN DANGER.

Rodimus stared at it-

-It- It? The Matrix was not a thing. 'It' was neither male nor female. All such devices of power were entities, not persons, not female, not male. They existed on planes of reality unlike that of sentient or super creatures. The Matrix was alive, but neither person, animal nor god.

PYRT, Roddi thought. That's what the Matrix was: Pyrt. (Peert) Not any classification of life forms as they knew, understood or could register.

He was about to ask a question regarding the walls in Fort Max when the table under his arms started to melt away. Actually, 'melt' was the wrong term. It simply 'blacked' into nothingness.

The waitress came back the next minute; the café? Scene returned with her. "Run." she whispered. "It must never find you! Run, my loves!"

Optimus abandoned the table first, paused and glanced back to the waitress. She came and kissed the fold of his face. "Run!" she whispered. "Don't let it catch you!"

"What is going on?" Prime demanded. "What's wrong?"

But she shook her head. "The walls keep bleeding and the children are in danger. Run, run! Run, run!"

Prime took the warning to heart and he bolted through the door and found no footing there. He fell through the ground-and he fell  
And  
kept  
falling,  
falling  
straight  
into  
hell.

Just one scream. It lasted an eternity. And that scream echoed clear back millions of years and that scream was echoed by hundreds of innocent Autobots, tortured to death. And that scream echoed the same terrible sound Optimus screamed on the mausoleum.

Prime woke with a start, finding himself at his desk, his arms folded to pillow his head while he powered down. He had no idea the time of day, nor how long he slept. He sat there and stared into nothing until Rusti's little 'Freak' ghost appeared from the wall and stared.

Roddi bolted straight up, finding himself in his office, surrounded by digipads and odds-and-ends parts. He glanced all around and realized that he fell asleep while working.

And then he remembered one word: Pyrt.

The Matrix was Pyrt.

SHATRA'ZHAN. AL'ART ALNON. KES PRES PLAFLAN, BLOON NOYAN RAN.

Power surges ran up and down Roddi's infrastructure. What the hell was that?

AND HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN, PRIME, THAT I MADE YOU?

"Who's there?" Rodimus stood and circled his office, sloshing among digipads and assorted machine bits and pieces. "I SAID, who's there?"

Silence.

And the whisperers came in droves, all talking at once, all saying something to each other or someone not there. They all talked aloud, all aiming their discussions at Rodimus Prime. He bowed over and covered his audios.

"I'M NOT LISTENING!" He shut off his optics. "DID YOU HEAR ME! YOU DON'T EXIST! YOU DON'T EXIST!" Another idea entered his mind and Rodimus searched the empty ceiling. "Max! Max, record these sounds! Hurry!"

TO WHAT SOUNDS ARE YOU REFERRING, RODIMUS?

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'what sounds'!" Rodimus nearly blew his temper. "Those obnoxious noises, the voices, Max, dammit! Record them!"

I'M SORRY, COMMANDER. I AM RECEIVING NO SUCH TRANSMISSIONS.

"WHAT! They're coming in through the damned walls, Max! How could you not hear them?"

The city fell quiet for a moment then came back with: THERE IS NOTHING CREATING VOICES EXCEPT YOU, RODIMUS PRIME.

"Oh!" Rodimus shouted above the annoying voices, "so now I'm crazy! Is THAT it, Max?"

I'M SORRY-

"Yeah! I wish I had a PAYCHECK every time someone said that to me!" Rodimus pitched his voice higher: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he mocked. "If people were really as fucking sorry as they say they are, the galaxy would be a better place!"

-I thought you said it was important.-

-transform, but be silent.-

-the death of millions is inconsequential compared to galactic peace.-

-choose your weapons carefully.-

-they said they would. They promised.-

-I hate this place. I miss my home.-

-oh primus, primus, when does the pain end?-

Rodimus swept up one of the larger digipads and smashed it against the wall. The sounds still came and he proceeded to throw several other pads against the wall, smashing them to fragments. "SHUT UP!" he shouted at the top of his voice, "shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!"

And suddenly they did. Roddi threw a last pad against the wall and it wasn't until the pieces clattered to the floor that he realized what he had done. He moaned in regret and turned away.

Another whispering voice entered the sudden silence of his office:

-FORGIVE ME, forgive me. FORGIVE ME, forgive me. FORGIVE ME, forgive me-

Rodimus scowled and turned back around. He faced a 'moving photograph' of an older Alpha Trion stuck somewhere among a pile of debris. Unlike other image 'play backs' displayed on Max's walls, this one had sound. But it was the same moment, played a like an ancient nylon record with a scratch in it: Alpha Trion lay trapped and severely wounded, his face a mask of suffering and regret.

Puzzled, Rodimus searched his data banks for the record of this particular moment and could find nothing-unless . . . unless it happened just prior to the creation of the Aerialbots. Prime did mention how they found Trion injured as they tried to stop the Decepticons from reaching Vector Sigma.

The pathetic image played several times more before finally fading. It left Rodimus cold so that he had to leave the office. Perhaps it was time to discuss this business with Optimus Prime.

Rusti stood waiting for the bus. Students filed around her, shouting at one another, sometimes bumping into her without enough manners to excuse themselves. She stood, a world away, almost dreading the return to Fort Max.

Something still nagged her at the back of her mind. Was it something to do with Optimus and Roddi? Maybe she was just imagining it all. That could be it.

The city bus arrived and Rusti boarded, flashing her pass at the driver. She sat beside an EDC officer and instantly put her nose in a book.

"Hey, Marge," the officer beside the girl called across the seat, "how about lunch tomorrow?"

"Can't," the woman objected sadly.

"Oh?"

"Been assigned to Pluto."

"Really?"

Rusti did not move her head, but her eyes lifted toward the woman across them. She was wearing a less formal EDC dress uniform. "You didn't hear? About three o'clock this morning, they brought in Blaster and Chromedome with bad injuries. Word has it the battle out there is getting pretty bad."

"So they're sending a woman there to straighten things out?"

"Very funny, Viguard. If that were the case, Fairborn would have already done it."

"Yeah. When do you leave?"

"As soon as I get there."

Rusti stared at the woman's booted feet and wondered when Magnus was going to get back, and if he'd be back in time to put a stop to whatever's going on.

She arrived at the cafeteria about a quarter to five and set her back pack down. She missed Cody and wished he could have come along and studied with her.

Rusti raided a refrigerator and served herself a small bowl of strawberries and vanilla ice cream. It was going to be a long silent evening. She'd study up through dinner then retire to her room.

Science.  
Psych.  
Math.  
English.  
Civics.

Yuck and double yuck. By the time she reached English, the clock warned her it was close to ten P.M.; bed time. Homework seemed endless and tough at times. But Rusti was determined to get through it, even if she had to stay up past midnight.

She reached for her Dr. Pepper and sipped it as she reread the same paragraph three times more, trying to carefully digest the data.

A multitude of cold voices leaked through the walls and at first Rusti thought someone was talking outside her door.

-don't go down that way-

and the sounds of a crashing car sent chills down her back. That was not coming from outside!

Rusti glanced about the walls in her room. "Somebody?" Her voice just peeped above a whisper.

-You're supposed to know everything. What are those things?-  
-you can't erase your brain-

and another multitude of voices whispered in and out of perception. Rusti stood. Her heart started to pound and she reached for her stereo and slipped in a blank audio disk and hit record.

-the chase, the hunt, the moment of ultimate living!-  
-as you can see, your friends can't wait for your arrival-  
-destruction-

Rusti shuddered, but kept her mouth shut as she counted the seconds while the stereo recorded the noises in her room. Little by little, those voices she could not make out faded and soon it was quiet in her room again. Her mouth was so dry her tongue would not move. She held her breath and hesitated a second before pressing playback.

There they were: voices clamoring over one another, struggling to be heard. Rusti shivered with excitement and fear. Even if Max was not aware of the freakish phenomena, at least there was now a recording!

She popped the tape out of its cradle and was going to rush to Optimus' office when she nearly ran straight into Freak.

She screamed, startled.

Freak uttered a tiny soft moan.

"No!" Rusti couldn't help but to start crying. She did not want to see this thing again! She did not want to face it! "Please, please, just leave me alone!"

The tiny moan grew louder and the pitch heightened.

"Please go away!" Rusti shouted more loudly.

The scream grew louder.

Rusti backed away, crying. "Go away!"

Louder.

"GO AWAY!"

As if someone had cranked up the volume on a set of monster speakers, the sound shot upward and passed through Rusti's body. It pierced her bones and vibrated against her backbone and it was all she could do to cover her ears. She fell to her knees as the scream slammed into her brain and shot down her spine. A fit of dizziness assailed her and Rusti found herself falling.  
And she  
kept  
falling,  
falling  
straight  
into  
hell.

That scream lasted an eternity and echoed back millions of years was ricocheted by hundreds of innocent Autobots, tortured to death. That scream - the same sound Optimus uttered on the mausoleum-caused her to fall unconscious.

Rusti did not hear an alarm wail through the late-night air. She did not realize Fort Max was on sudden alert.

A Quintesson ship plunged through the Earth's atmosphere like a bomb dropped by God. The slick Autobot battle cruiser, Celestial Dancer, matched the Quint vessel turn for turn until the Quint ship took a nose-dive in a suicide maneuver. The sirens pitched from a baleful warning, to a phase-three full-blown alert, ordering a city-wide evacuation.

Autobots, Humans and aliens alike dashed from their offices, personal quarters and training grounds in a hysterical attempt to escape. Planes and spacecraft took off without authorization.

Magnus dipped the Celestial Dancer gently from altitude to altitude until he steadied his ship right under the Quint's.

"Here goes nothing," Magnus muttered. He switched thrusters to lift-off and shoved the Celestial Dancer, up under the belly of the Quintesson ship. His shields held tightly, but only eighty percent remained. The Quint veered a hard left so it no longer dived straight down. Veering left now gave it a run-in course with the Upper Level space port.

It was what Magnus wanted. He prepared his thrusters to change in a split second and contacted Max.

The Quint aimed for the space between the great pillars upholding Upper Level. If accurate enough, one shot could undo the whole deck and send it crashing upon Central Command and then north upon the EDC district.

That did not take place.

The Quintesson ship abruptly stopped as a force field snapped between the pillars, holding the craft suspended like a bug caught in a spider's web. The ship rocked and thrusters went full-blast, but all in vain.

Magnus was sure he had it. He closed in, grim and satisfied someone was going to pay for the Autobots who died three days ago. Before his hand skipped across the weapons panel, Magnus watched as the Quint vessel shifted, folded out and displayed a discomforting number of weapons.

"Shit." Magnus abandoned the helm and grabbed his weapon and a jet pack.

Seconds?

Microseconds?

It didn't matter. He jumped just as the ship blew to pieces. The blast deafened his senses and Magnus was more than certain he just died. Funny thing, he was still conscious, but dead.

Nope! The jet pack kicked in on time and he found himself riding through the smoke and debris. With his senses knocked off-line, he did not notice the Quint ship exploded, taking the Celestial Dancer with it.

That didn't help Magnus' landing. He tried to fly straight, but the shockwave disrupted his thrusters and dropped the Major-General into a nearby groundskeeper's building. Metal, insulation and wiring snapped and flew and shattered against and around him. Magnus' momentum was such that even when he crashed, his great form kept moving. He slammed from one wall, through one room, and out the other. He moaned softly and wanted to lie right where he landed.

But the Quint landed not far from him and like a cat, Magnus bolted to action. He slipped his weapon into subspace and dashed for the Quintesson. It saw him coming from its Face of Deceit and screamed. It fled, its beam of light vibrating at full force as it crossed grounds, skittering like a hunted mouse.

Magnus ran very close to it, but the Quint, being of lighter form, managed to stay just out of reach until the Major-General leapt and nabbed two and three of its tentacles. The Quint, mad with terror, dragged him over metal plating and green of lawn, rushing toward one of the principal power plants on the eastern side of town.

Optimus and Roddi jumped to Magnus' assistance. Prime opened fire on the intruder. At first, he thought it was a successful hit, not something easily missed. But the Quint's body bulged and swelled and sank until a Chapronite, or rather, several of them emerged from the dying Quint.

The black stick-figure aliens attacked Optimus and Rodimus with incredible speed just as six other Autobots came to their aid. Dogfight rammed the backside of one alien as a second alien wounded Silverbolt with a single stroke. Silverbolt dropped back as Blades jumped in and slashed at the attacker. It retreated a moment then disappeared into Rodimus' shadow.

Dogfight's lip components dropped apart. "What the flying-"

That distraction cost him. The alien attacking Optimus disappeared beneath Magnus' shadow and came up in front of Dogfight and dealt him a terrible blow across the chest.

Magnus fought two Chapronites at the same time. He swung at one and it disappeared between the fine plate lines running along the city's metal flooring. The other pressed him with one swing of its deadly long arm after another. Magnus heard Dogfight's cry, but could not afford to be distracted at the moment. The second one shot up just in the Major-General's peripheral vision and he ducked as it tried to tag him. It tagged its partner instead, but the other Chapronite was unaffected.

Roddi heard the Triggerbot's scream and spun around with a shot straight from his arm-guns. It knocked the Chapronite aside and its body started to smolder and sizzled to ashes.

Another Chapronite jumped in front of Rodimus and swung at him. Roddi jumped backwards in a hand spring and came back with a round-house kick. It didn't do much to the alien, except to buy Roddi enough time to hand it a jab and a right cross before blasting it at the topside (since the Chapronites have no real heads). It too toppled and sizzled away.

Delta joined Blades and the two took turns warding off one alien between them until Blades' right arm was slashed. Delta connected her weapon to her arm and used Roddi's trick: making a weapon out of her own energon supply.

Prime maneuvered from Roddi's side to Magnus' and kicked away one of the two aliens. "Wanna explain this?"

"Communications were cut." Magnus answered after delivering a frontal kick to his attacker. "I lost three bots there and discovered the Quints were running shipments through the Chapronites. Two ships headed this way. I followed one of them."

"The other?"

"Unknown."

Optimus looked to Magnus. "Unknown?" He echoed.

Magnus drew a saddened breath. "Rockslide is gone. He came after me-there was an ambush-" Magnus cut himself off as he stared in complete shock at Optimus' optic sensors. Prime's usual blue optics shaded down until they were Decepticon-red. Then they bled Human blood.

Magnus' whole being froze. What the living hell was going on?

The distraction caught the Major-General off guard and the first Chapronite slashed him down the right side of his thorax, across his right hip. He groaned as negative energy sunk into his metallic skin, eating anything in its path. Prime leaped and fired between the creature's arms. It forced the Chapronite back and Delta shot it.

Magnus fell, wounded and exhausted.

- - - - - -

Magnus drew a stuttered breath. "Rockslide is . . . is gone. He followed me-there was an ambush-" Magnus stopped short when his optics contacted Prime's optic sensors. Optimus' usual blue optics dimmed until they glowed an eerie Decepticon-red. Human blood seeped from them and trailed down his face plates.

Magnus froze as if time did not exist for him What the living hell was going on?

But in the middle of battle, the Major-General was caught off guard and the Chapronite lacerated the right side of his thorax and over his right hip. He groaned as negative energy bit into his metallic skin, leaving a dark trail where the alien's hand touched him. Prime fired between the creature's arms, forcing the Chapronite back until Delta shot it.

Wounded and exhausted, Magnus fell.

- - - - - -

Optimus shook his head and wondered if he had just lost his head. What was that? What the HELL was that?

What was the term for that phenomenon?

What was it called?

A time loop?

A causality loop!

Oh Primus! They just LIVED a time ripple-a causality loop!

No! There was no room for distraction at this moment! Optimus diverted his mind to the situation and placed himself between his friend and the alien attacker. He dared a glance back at the City commander to make sure Magnus was at least okay.

The Chapronites gathered about him and Magnus like scavengers. However, they seemed to hesitate after seeing what Rodimus did to their other two companions.

"Come ON!" Roddi shouted. "You started this! Come get some bad sugar!"

Delta readjusted her weapon and fired at one Chapronite's 'head'. It sprawled over the ground and sizzled as the Autobot femme recharged her weapon for another strike. The remaining alien slipped away and Optimus ordered Max to raise shields around them. The creature hopefully will not be able to escape.

Delta found it in her gun scope and followed the alien as it ran for the nearest shadow. But Rodimus forced her gun down, giving her a cautionary shake of his head.

"Enough." He ordered. "That one we want for questioning."

Delta jerked away from him, her blue eyes ablaze with sudden anger. "I can't believe you made me let it go!"

But her protests went unheard as other Autobots maneuvered around the remaining Chapronite, closing on it, forcing it to remain in the night light until Max could erect a temporary force field.

Optimus and Roddi stared at it for a long moment while the other Autobots recalibrated their weapons to match energon-level frequencies.

Neither Autobot leader spoke for a disturbingly long time. The others started to notice and a couple of them fidgeted.

Delta gave them a cold stare. "So what do we do from here?"

Her hostilities went unnoticed by either Prime. Either that, or they simply did not acknowledge anyone else' presence. Even when First Aid arrived to take Magnus, Silverbolt and Dogfight back to Medical, Optimus and Roddi remained quiet, staring at their new captive.

Then Rodimus spoke first: "I say we shoot first, ask questions later."

"Dead people don't talk." Optimus countered.

Roddi turned to Optimus, a coldness froze his expression in a worse arrangement than Delta's because this was Rodimus Prime, not some former Paratron who was pretending to be a warrior. "Oh, I suppose you want me to offer it some kind of mercy."

"I didn't say that." Optimus' gaze remained frozen on their guest. "I said dead people don't talk." Then his gaze met his Second-in-Command's and Rodimus, suddenly realizing what Optimus meant, smiled.

But it was not a pleasant smile.

Jax arrived to participate in the questioning. Magnus attended as long as he could. But the damage he sustained proved far worse than he thought. It took him three hours' worth of reconstruction and two more hours of rest before he could proceed with his investigation. Optimus visited him while he rested and assured him Tolomsky was handling the questioning just fine.

Magnus meekly, quietly nodded.

"What's wrong, Old Friend?" Optimus asked, now concerned over Magnus' behavior.

Ultra Magnus hesitated to answer. Finally, he squared off at Prime's optics as one who decided to take a great risk. "Do you remember several years ago before the Great Rebirth how you collapsed in Metroplex's control room just before the Decepticons attacked?"

That was a long time ago, Optimus thought. It had been a long road back from sudden resuscitation and reinstatement as the Leader of the Autobots. So much had happened in so short a time. But that was the way his whole life had been. Time for Optimus, it would seem, was measured more by events rather than mere passage of time. And in the last fifty years, so much has happened that it seemed to have made his past a blur in comparison.

But then, five million years worth of life was a great deal to recall, even for a Transformer.

"Vaguely," Prime finally answered.

Magnus' gaze diverted to the window as the late morning sun passed the tops of Max's skyscrapers.

His silence made Prime uncomfortable. "Why? What's wrong?"

"You could never confide in me." Magnus answered softly, almost like a child knowing punishment would result in saying the wrong thing.

But Optimus said nothing. He did not move.

Magnus plucked up his courage and faced the one person he respected more than anyone else. "You used to confide in me. You used to rely on me for help, for clarity of thought in times of distress. But all that died away after your reawakening here on Earth. If I did not know any better, if I thought you were anyone else, I would swear you took that mission four million years ago more as a suicide run rather than simply saving Cybertron. Tell me, Optimus, is that what it really was all about? Was that why you did not take Elita?"

It was a cruel accusation. Optimus did not know how to answer it. Nor did he know whether or not to be angry about it. He thought it over but could not remember the circumstances of their departure from Cybertron except searching for new sources of fuel. He finally shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ultra Magnus. I don't remember."

Magnus didn't know whether to call that answer a bluff, or accept it. A four-million year deactivation period could cause some erasure in the data banks. He wordlessly nodded.

Prime read that and knew he needed to say something to salvage the moment. "However, I think you're right to suspect me of motives."

Now he had Magnus' attention. "Something more than searching for fuel?"

"No, not that. I'm referring to the incidents regarding the Rebirth." Prime flinched when pain tweaked his chest. It grabbed him inside and caused him to outwardly wince. He struggled to regain composure, but worried that he failed.

As far as Magnus was concerned, he did fail. Magnus saw the moment of pain and wondered-no, knew something was wrong.

Prime came back to him, sullen and guilty. "I fear a darkness has touched us, Ultra Magnus. But not a new enemy. Not something from the outside." He hesitated, staring at his crossed leg and traced the contours of his foot. "I fear the source might even be Vector Sigma itself."

Magnus remained quiet another moment before adjusting his sitting position on his flat. "You mean you've had . . . 'overwhelming feelings' about Vector Sigma . . . and that's what's been bothering you lately?"

"Mostly."

To Magnus, that word sounded more like a grunt designed to pacify rather than a straight answer. "What about Vector Sigma? Do you think it-he-whatever is responsible for more than just a new Cybertron?"

Now, for the first time in ages, Optimus decided to reveal a private piece of information. He moved from the chair to the flat, sitting close to Magnus' side. "Magnus, you are aware that whenever the Matrix instills life to a body shell, it automatically calls it 'child."

"Yes." Magnus hoped and prayed Optimus would not suddenly change the subject to avert disclosing secrets.

Optimus could not look him in the optic. "There . . . will be . . . no more children."

Reality hit Magnus cold. He wanted Prime to confide in him, now he got what he wanted. But Magnus was not anticipating this information to be so . . . so . . . Despair broke his heart. For meganiums, scientific 'circles' have theorized that the Matrix was a part of Vector Sigma (the truth would most likely never be known). Both objects had the ability to create life. Both had certain powers necessary to the survival of the Cybertronian species.

Now this?

Magnus did not know what to say.

And Optimus left the room without giving him the opportunity to do so.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 4

Rusti woke to the calling of her mother's voice. She rolled, finding herself on the flat hard floor and moaned, complaining to herself how sick she felt. The girl forced herself up and the world tilted left then right until she slumped back to the floor.

Netty's voice rang firmly in Rusti's head how she was going to be late- "get up NOW." The girl forced herself to stand though her balance proved unsteady.

Rusti managed into the shower, trying to hurry, still hearing her mother voicing how slow she was, that she needed to get moving.

It was hard. Rusti's arms moved like cold lead. She toweled herself off and dressed just as slowly. At one point, she sat on the bedside and started to cry. She did not know why, but she felt a little better afterward.

Rusti gathered her books, still dazed.

The bus waited as she met it, slow as an old woman. She clambered on and collapsed into her seat.

_Rusti?_ Roddi's voice filtered through the clamor in her head and her mother's voice faded. _What's wrong? You don't seem to be well._

_I'm just going to school like a good girl. I'll be good. And I'll be home on time._ If Rodimus said something more, Rusti did not hear him. She fell asleep against the window, her world now filled with darkness and scattered thoughts.

The bus stopped before the school grounds and Rusti waited until everyone else filtered off before staggering after them. She zombied in Civics, shaking her head every few minutes to keep her eyes open. She tried shifting in her chair. She tried drawing on a returned test paper. She tried glancing out the window.

Finally, the bell danged and she gathered her stuff, moving slowly. She hoped no one would chastise her odd behavior.

P.E. was another struggle. Rusti tried to keep up, but she failed even in warm-ups.

Coach Rhydt approached and peered into the girl's eyes. "Resonna," she said softly, "you don't look well. I suggest you go see the nurse."

Rusti slowly made her way back to her locker to change. She managed to pull her clothes on and gathered her books as Coach Rhydt entered the locker room, concern written over her face. She offered Rusti a grim smile, but received no response. She took Rusti's back pack from her and wordlessly guided her out.

The five-minute bell called as the two reached the main hall. Other students passed paying them no heed. Rhydt kept glancing at the girl and shifted the back pack to her other hand so that she could take Rusti's temperature. The girl was warm on the cheeks, icy cold on the forehead.

"Resonna, if you were ill, why did you not stay home? Being sick is not a crime here."

"Rusti!"

A strong but gentle arm caught her across her back and Rusti almost fell against Cody. "Hey, are you okay?"

All she could do was stare at him.

"No, young man," Rhydt answered, "we are going to the nurses' office."

Cody's face wrinkled in concern. "Rus, what are you doing in school if you're feeling so badly?"

Rusti thought he said 'Why did you come to school if your mind is bleeding so badly?'

"Ten little Autobots walking on the line

One fell off and lost his mind.

God called the doctor and the doctor chimed:

Just move on and leave it behind."

Optimus sang that, didn't he? He sang softly in her head and the walls in Fort Max started to bleed. She felt their cold moistness. She smelt disease and decay. Whisperings rose and fell with the freezing breeze that passed through her.

Her head started throbbing.

Then her mind came back to the present and amid a few straggling students walked a familiar alien. It stood, oh gee, at least a good eight to ten feet. It almost touched the ceiling. Its long thin black arm touched one student's head and a spring-like device bounced into existence.

Rusti glanced at the faces of strangers. She searched for some sign of recognition, to see if anyone else saw the alien. But everyone else remained as heedless of the alien as Rusti herself was heedless of Cody's questions.

Another student was marked, followed by another and another. They were going to die. They were all going to die and no one knew.

She choked and Rusti forced air into her lungs. The air only brought on sobbing and she let it go. She reached 'that point.' She lost her mind and any moment they would come and lock her away.

Maybe that's what she really wanted.

"Help." She whispered. "Someone help me!"

Rhydt ushered Rusti into the nurses' office and made the girl sit. Cody sat beside her and took her hand.

Windy gave him a cold glare and scribbled across the digipad. "She's come back again, Doctor."

"Yes, I have eyes. I see that, thank you." And he produced a tiny scanning device. He waved it in front of Rusti three times and finally looked at Rhydt. "What happened?"

"She looked like she's about to faint so I brought her in."

Doctor Gaub nodded and turned to the nearby cupboard. He returned the next minute and administered a shot. Rusti felt the needle's pinch, but did not react. She sat there, staring. Little by little she recognized her surroundings and that Cody sat next to her while Windy, Rhydt and Gaub quietly talked among themselves.

For a moment she thought Freak stood in the doorway. No! She did not want to see that thing again! Why wouldn't it just leave her alone? She bowed over, covering her face. Chills ran along her skin. "No, no, no, no."

Doctor Gaub turned to her. "Miss Witwicky?" But he received no response. He turned to Cody, knowing the young man needed to be sent off to class.

"She likes to be called Rusti." Cody answered the doctor's unspoken question. Windy tossed him another dirty look.

Gaub leaned against the table Rusti sat on and crossed his arms. "Rusti, I want to help. Can you tell me what's going on?"

"You won't believe me. No one can believe me. I don't believe me."

"I see. Well, I want to believe you. But I can't read your mind."

Rusti lowered her hands from her face. She could not look at anyone. "I'm losing my mind."

Gaub nodded. "Hmm. I recall you said something like that a few days ago, or sometime last week, wasn't it?"

"I was doing my homework in my quarters when Freak came into my room and screamed and-and it can't be real! It hit Cody's car and they said there's no traces of prints or skin or anything and the stupid voices won't be silent! And the alien in the hallway keeps touching people!"

Gaub brought up a stool and sat in front of her. He lifted her head and examined her eyes.

"You don't believe me." Rusti's voice nearly cracked with despair.

He paused as Rhydt left the office to return to her class. "What alien, Rusti?"

"I dunno. It looks like a stick-figure. You know, tall and headless."

Gaub reached for a digipad and scribbled over it. He scanned Rusti again and jotted on the digipad and sighed. "Rusti, I'm going to send you home. My diagnosis is mononucleosis. I'll write up a report and submit it to Fort Max with a medication subscription. But you must promise me you will get lots of rest. Alright?"

She stared into nothing and mutely nodded. Then she understood what was happening. Her tired eyes met his and she weakly smiled. "I know you can't believe me. But thank you."

Gaub did not return the smile. He jotted something more on the pad and glanced at Cody. Cody thought he saw a sense of understanding in the doctor's dark eyes.

Rusti could not recall the trip back to Fort Max. Nor did she recall who brought her home. She remembered someone guiding her to Medbay and three people talking as if she weren't there. She heard someone mention something about Optimus. She could not make out the situation or the circumstances of their fears. Rusti could not tell them she was looking at them as though their forms were streaks in a painting. They gave her another shot and if Rusti had eaten anything at all, she would have lost it. The girl lay down and vaguely heard someone shouting at her. Apparently, they did not want her to lie there.

Too bad. If they felt like she did, they'd do the same thing. Jerks.

She closed her eyes and darkness surrounded her. The face of the Matrix's bios appeared in her mind. "WE REMEMBER THE FIRE. WE REMEMBER THAT VIRUS. WHOLE CITIES, WHOLE LEVELS DECIMATED. AND WE GRIEVED."

"Who are 'we?" Rusti asked. "And why am I being dragged into this? You keep talking to me as though I were Optimus or Roddi."

"I SEE YOU AS YOU WILL BE. WE KNOW . . . TOO MUCH."  
Non  
Linear  
existence.  
And Rusti lost consciousness.

First Aid scanned Optimus as the Autobot leader lay over his desk, lifeless and unresponsive. The Autobot medic shook his head. "I don't know, Ultra Magnus," he reported. "It's not stasis lock as I've ever seen it."

Magnus turned to Sunstreaker. "You found him just like this?"

"Yeah."

Magnus bent closely to his friend. Optimus was warm to the touch. Fluids bled from his chest and shoulders. Magnus ignored First Aid as the doctor ordered a stretcher to command central.

Optimus slowly sat up, his whole expression told Magnus he was not aware of his surroundings.

"Prime?" The city commander called. "Prime?" Optimus' 'blood' stained the desktop and seeped from above Prime's optics.

"All dead around me, Magnus. All lie dead." He gazed at his hands. "I was so stupid . . . so arrogant. There won't be anymore children." He covered his face in grief and shame. "No more children."

Gemini and Apogee brought in an anti-grav stretcher and Magnus slid his arm behind Optimus' back to help him to his feet. But Prime weakly leaned against Magnus, unable to do so much as stand. The Major-General gave Sideswipe a glance before simply lifting Optimus out of the chair and carrying him to the stretcher. Prime's arms fell, his optics dimmed off. The anti-grav stretcher adjusted to the Autobot's weight and Magnus sadly watched the two femmes guide it back to medical. He turned to First Aid as the doctor set his scanner back.

"Did anyone tell you if Rodimus said anything prior to passing out?"

"No. No one said anything to me, Ultra Magnus. Springer called me up, said Rodimus collapsed."

"Then I'll have to have a talk with Springer."

First Aid and Sunstreaker turned to leave, when the gold and chrome Autobot warrior gave the city commander a final glance. "What did he mean by the children being all dead, Ultra Magnus?"

Magnus couldn't look him in the optic. "Prime wasn't the one talking, Sunstreaker." He said matter-of-factly.

Sunstreaker stared a moment longer. "Okay. But what did he mean by it?"

The Major-General looked at him but tersely, wordlessly turned away and started picking digipads from Prime's desk.

Nothing more was asked.

TRAPPED IN A DREAM, WE DANCE FROM REALITY TO REALITY. IF THERE BE ANY REST, IT IS THE DARKNESS BETWEEN THE DREAM AND THE DREAM. IF THERE BE ANY SALVATION, IT WILL BE THE LOSS OF MEMORY WHEN THE WAKING COMES. UNTIL THEN, WE SUFFER FROM ONE UNREALITY TO THE NEXT, EACH UNREALITY BEING ITS OWN WORLD AND NEVER REMEMBERED AS WE LIVE SECOND TO SECOND TO SECOND. IN DREAMS, WE PRAY FOR REALITY.

Rusti crossed the lawn of the topmost floor of Command Central and found Optimus sitting in a lawn chair, reading a digipad. Well, he looked mostly like Optimus, but not quite like Optimus. The face did not change. Well, yes it did. But not to a great extent. She approached him with a smile.

I love him, she thought. That's right! I love him! And she laughed inside. Then she stopped laughing. It really wasn't so funny. She had loved him all her life. She loved him beyond her life.

He greeted her by tearing his optics from the pad. "Hello, Rusti." He said softly. "How are you today?"

His face looked delicious. Wordlessly she bent over and placed her lips over the fold of his face plate. He raised his head and she trailed her lips over his chin and down his neck. His physical warmth tasted metal-sweet. She left his neck to kiss him again when she found him crying.

Horrified, Rusti withdrew. She had unwittingly violated him! She covered her face and started to flee when he called her name. She froze. Guilt rode over and crushed her. Forgive me! Forgive me! But the words would not come out!

"Rrusssti."

"No," she burst into tears. "I never meant to hurt you!"

"No . . . this is how much I love you." His soft resonate voice soothed her heart. She turned back and he invited her to sit on his lap and he just held her. He just held her.

"The Matrix suffers from memories it will not forget. It witnessed horrors it can't forgive."

Prime and Rusti stood side by side on the grassy knoll and watched a huge throng of Autobots, great and lowly, give allegiance to an unknown Autobot leader.

"I hate this memory." Optimus said more to himself than her.

"Why?" But he could not answer her. He turned toward Rusti to avert his optics from the event. The unknown Autobot leader stood in a balcony 'dressed' in a transform Rusti did not recognize. He stared upon his people below as though he were their god. He spoke but his voice did not carry far enough for Optimus and Rusti to hear. The crowd cheered. He said something else then he held his hand over them and instantly they were all dead and grey.

Just like that. Rusti caught her breath and choked. Dead. Just shells of creatures that once were. "Ohmigod! Optimus, what-what was that?" and before she asked her next question, Rusti realized she had dreamed of this incident, though she could not recall when. But she remembered the bloodlust. She recalled the feeling of godhood. But the girl could not remember when she dreamed of such evil. "Did-did he have a power of-"

"It was Matrix-power, Rusti." Prime's voice fell dark. "It's a chapter in our history that is not in the records. The Matrix remembers. It can't forgive Itself."

"But . . . how did that happen? How did the Matrix chose an Autobot that was so evil?"

"Because, Rusti, there are things and creatures that exist in the universe about which we know very little. Something entered that Autobot and managed to get past the Matrix. By the time the Matrix was aware of its existence . . . it was too late. And this-" Optimus waved his hand over the scene of death, "-the first of five . . . The Matrix could not recover before two million Autobots died." Emotional distress dimmed his optics so that he could not look at her. Rusti turned from the scene and laced her arm about Optimus' back and guided him away.

"Why doesn't It remember anything good? Doesn't the Matrix remember the good things about life?"

"It used to." Optimus recalled. "Well, at least that's what I was told."

"What do you mean?"

"Alpha Trion possessed the Matrix longer than I."

They slowly descended a grassy slope, far away from the metal terrain representing the nightmare. She helped him to sit then sat in front of him and studied his sad, weary face.

"I have tried to ask it to remember good events. I've tried to use my own memory to reprogram it. But the Matrix has a guilt complex that clouds It's judgment. And, Rusti, I have seen glimpses of a shadow-memory!"

"What do you mean?"

"There is something else in the Matrix. Another memory is trying to resurface. It's a shadow in the darkness. The Matrix is hiding it from me. I suspect the shock of it would be too great to bear and the Matrix is struggling to keep it from me. But I fear it will not be long before it does resurface. I don't know what will happen. I may go insane."

"There . . . isn't a way to reprogram the Matrix at all?"

Prime shook his head. It isn't a machine as we understand it, Rusti. The Matrix is its own life. It is, and it possesses life."

The world quite suddenly turned cold and dark blood drenched the grass. Rusti jumped to her feet and retreated from the approaching puddle. Optimus made no move. She reached for him but a sudden gust of wind blew him away as though he were made of ashes. She swallowed a scream and ran for the nearest tree.

Now something pursued her. She couldn't see what it was but the sound-oh, gawd! The sound! Huge pricking feet, stamping the ground like . . . like something she could not place! And right in front of her a set of massive jaws opened in mid air and then she did scream, sliding along the ground.

Rodimus appeared from nowhere. He grabbed a tree and used it like a javelin, swinging with all his weight, he kicked into the air and smashed it, causing the teeth, jaws and the sky to shatter into huge slices of glass. Rusti cried and covered her head with her arms.

CRICK, CRICK, TINKLE SMASH! TINKLE, TINKLE, SNAP

SNAP

CRINKLE

TINKLE

Dark. Dark.

Light.

The time window of 2007 rippled and its stream ran into the ripples of time window 2013.

Eleven main universes rippled with this effect and to set things straight, a hundred and nine more realities were created.

Or did they actually already exist?

The Ambassador bore into her with large dark eyes. Rust thought she could be swallowed by his stare and chills snaked down her back. "The time lines are destroyed." His voice came quiet, gentle.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You aren't supposed to exist." And he started to walk away. He turned back, seemingly expecting her to follow. "Do you know where it all went wrong?"

She shook her head.

"When they brought Optimus Prime back to life. He was supposed to have stayed dead."

"No!" She objected.

"One decision, Rusti, will determine your entire life." His powerful dark eyes diverted behind her and spotted a growing Darkness. "You had better run, girl, if you want to keep your sanity."

She followed his eyes and saw the gaping jaws racing for her. Rusti ran.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Did you know you're still asleep?

Just keep dreaming. Stay. We'll have tea and dance.

Sleep . . .

Rusti realized

dezilaer itsuR

BREATHE

Rusti realized

dezilaer itsuR

BREATHE

I'm still asleep.

What do you do when you're asleep and you need to wake up?

BREATHE

It's the first thing you do when you wake in the morning. Take a deep breath.

Is Optimus here?

You're dreaming.

Wake up!

BREATHE

It sounded like. . . she had no name for it! She could not describe the sounds of its heavy feet as it raced down the corridor of her mind. It made a queer sound and froze her feet.

BREATHE!

It was like being trapped in water; like suffocating in a plastic bag; like escaping the hand of the devil.

-Come! Dance!-

I don't know how.

-We will Dance-

BREATHE

And it licked her.

That was it. Rusti shot up and screamed. She rolled off the bed and stood on her feet, pulling at her hair. She dashed to the closest wall and would have embraced it were it not simply a two-dimensional object.

MISS WITWICKY?

It was Max's voice.

MISS WITWICKY, YOU WERE TALKING IN YOUR SLEEP. I TRIED TO WAKE YOU SEVERAL TIMES. ARE YOU ALRIGHT? FORGIVE ME FOR FRIGHTENING YOU.

Rusti's eyes remained wide-open. Her heart would not stop pounding. Her skin turned clammy and now she breathed. "No!" She gasped. "Max, you did fine! You did good!"

A slight dizziness assailed her momentarily and Rusti remained where she stood. She watched, a bit nervously as her old battered fluffy duffy fell off the bed and bounced lightly on the floor.

"What was that?" She whispered. Rusti didn't think Max would be able to register the movement-all other past events seemed inconspicuous to him.

I'M REGISTERING A WAVE OF CHRONOENERGY HEADING STRAIGHT FOR US, MISS WITWICKY. I SUGGEST YOU EITHER REMAIN IN YOUR QUARTERS OR RETREAT TOWARD THE MESS HALL.

Chronoenergy? Rusti mouthed the word, but did not speak it. She vaguely recalled it had something to do with time, but that was all she remembered from physics.

At first, Rusti thought about heading straight for the cafeteria. Then she realized she was standing in her jammies. She slipped out of her gown, changed her underclothes then reached for a case under her bed and quickly, but carefully, put on her EDC exo-suit. If there was going to be another emergency, like the time Roddi's shuttle crashed and exploded, she knew the suit would protect her. She nabbed her largest blouse from the closet and fitted a pair of jeans over the rest. She really didn't need shoes, but the helmet would be necessary.

With that, Rusti ventured out of her room into the hall where all the lights suddenly died out. She kissed the nearest wall and waited three beats until the emergency lights came on.

Why was it suddenly so quiet? Why didn't the inter-city alarm system strike on? Why didn't Communications kick in? They'd practiced this drill often enough; all essential personnel reported to the outer and inner edges of the city, all citizens reported to shelter areas-the cafeteria and EDC quarters houses being two of them.

Before she could speculate, Rusti spotted a shadow flitting in the darkness. The spindly shadow skittered across the floor like a nasty roach, racing from hiding to hiding. It left her cold and squeamish.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

Wait.

Wait a minute.

She was not in the EDC district.

She was in Central Command.

Wait.

How did she get here at all?

Wasn't she in school?

No, something was out of place. Something was wrong.

And that damned thing, that flat two-dimensional shadow headed for the elevator and the elevator lit to level four.

That was where Optimus' office presided.

Rusti pursued it, dashing with light steps down the corridor. The spooky shadow seemed to pay her no mind. She leapt just as the elevator doors started to close.

Then it dawned on her; if the electricity was out, how come the elevators were working? As the doors closed, Rusti had her answer: there was no light in the elevator. There was no light on the button panels. She stood there alone in the darkness, she and the shadow. Whatever it was, seemed oblivious to her.

To her surprise, Rusti's eyes adjusted enough so that she could distinguish the shadow-figure from the darkness in the elevator. She did not know how that was possible.

The shadow reared up, touching the ceiling of the elevator so that it now stood a good forty feet above her head. Rusti stopped breathing as she felt the dark, paper-thin thing staring at her like a predator.

'TRESPASS. NOT. AGAINST. ME. BUSINESS. AT. HAND. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT.'

Its whispery voice caused her blood to run cold. But rather than answering it, Rusti snapped her helmet on and switched her visor to night vision.

Nothing.

She tried UV.

Nothing.

She tried-oh heck. She switched it off and used her own vision. She wanted to find a target, some place weak, easily injured. But since this creature had no real dimension to it, attacking it most likely would do no good.

Still: "You will not touch Optimus."

It shifted shapes and the gapping jaws from her dreams appeared. Rusti closed her eyes, determined. Nothing was going to frighten her!

-At least until it shrieked.

In two separate rooms, lying on two separate flats, Optimus and Rodimus' optics shot on simultaneously. Prime's first thought resumed where it left off: adding up the cost for repairs and maintenance on the Phoenix space platform near Gate 09-A.

But he was nowhere around his desk or his office. He sat up and glanced about, finding himself in a room in Medbay. How long had he been here? And how did he get here at all?

Memory flooded his soul and he quickly recalled the strangest of dreams; he talked with Rusti and they witnessed a Matrix memory and then she was gone. And the scene went with her and he found himself trapped in a dim, dank room, stifled with a terrible stench.

Optimus remembered a shadow pressing against him and pried his body op . . . en. Prime automatically wrapped his arms about himself.

As he stared into nothing, the wall before him twisted and distorted, as though touched by a whirlwind or a vortex. It rippled and flattened out. Flashes of electricity zipped along its outer conduits.

"Oh, GK!" Prime paid no attention to the pain in his chest as he jumped from the flat. Monitor attachments snapped off his extremities when he fled the room. "Max!" He called.

YES, COMMANDER.

"I want you to shut the city down. All of it. Right now."

COMMANDER, SIR, I AM PROGRAMMED TO INFORM YOU OF VITAL FUNCTIONS OCCURRING THROUGHOUT THE CITY WHEN YOU REQUEST SUCH A THING. PERCEPTOR IS CONDUCTING THREE TEDIOUS EXPERIMENTS. THE UPPER LEVEL IS CURRENTLY RECEIVING SIX EXTRA-PLANETARY VESSELS AND ULTRA MAGNUS IS INSPECTING A LEAK IN THE PHOTON GENERATOR ON THE EASTERN WALL.

"Max, give them two warnings then shut the city down. That's an order."

YES, COMMANDER.

Without needing to exchange words, Optimus and Rodimus left Medbay for other parts of the city. Roddi raced to Upper Level while Optimus aimed straight for Central. He hoped to reach it before the city's power was cut. Of course, he could have had Max delay until he got there, but it was essential the city froze before . . . whatever.

Optimus was more than half way to Central when the city blacked out. He hated to think of the number of accidents that no doubt took place and how many complaints he would get later.

Prime Touched on Rodimus, but found Roddi was far from a talkative mood. He had been so edgy lately; they both were. But Roddi's temper seemed to have grown worse.

Maybe he was doing too much and Optimus just needed to deal out a few of his duties to someone else. Not that Roddi was incapable, by no means. But Optimus did not want him to feel crushed by his responsibilities.

Prime reached Command Central and transformed, finding himself the center of scrutiny by several other Autobots. Imputex, a visiting Paratron from Fort Horizon, stomped toward Optimus with a glare marring his silver and black faceplates.

"What is this all about, Prime?" he demanded. "Me and my group were just enjoying the beautiful fountain-"

"I don't have time to explain." Optimus pressed himself away from the 'tourist' and raced through the building. He reached level three via the staircase and almost made it to his office when the elevator doors at the other end of the corridor slid open.

To Optimus, time suddenly decelerated. Seconds passed as though manually stretched into minutes, but that did not stop the following events from occurring.

The elevator doors slid open and out slipped a flat black shapeless form. It raced for him like black lightening. Behind it, ran Rusti, trying to warn Optimus of the creature's pending attack. But it was too late. Optimus knew he could not run anywhere, be any place that the creature could not find him. There was no weapon of fire or strength of mind and body powerful enough to thwart the creature's intentions.

It has to attack me on all five levels of sentient existence, Prime thought.

And this was the second one. This was the second attack.

Rusti screamed as the creature hit Prime square in the chest, slashing through his body like a supernatural knife.

Then all things for Rusti fell to such slow motion that her life felt surreal.

A roaring thunderous noise hit her ears so that she lost her footing. She slid against the wall, impacted by the noise.

The city alarms shot on once and started again but froze in the middle of the second sounding, as though someone hit a pause button on time itself.

Rusti breathed once.

Twice.

And she watched as everything suspended around her.


	3. Disorientation

Author's Note: This chapter is abstract in nature and may prove difficult to read. For greater clarity of events occurring during this chapter, read One Breath, Two in the Sentinel Arc section of Fanfic Fricassee.

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 3

DISORIENTATION

"Lady . . . I require the solace of the shadows. Sunlight is my destroyer. There will never be another dawn!"  
-Legend  
Directed by Ridley Scott

Rusti woke to a lifeless place. The air hung cold, bearing neither sound nor light. Was this another dream; a hint of things that could not be, but in her world, were very real?

"Hullo?" her voice only whispered in the deep dark. Rusty was afraid to speak out loud. What if noise disturbed things she did not wish to see? On the other hand, if this was a dream, then nothing could harm her. Oh, nightmares might upset her, certainly, but she'd still wake in a real world, finding herself in bed, perhaps soaked in sweat.

On the other hand, the dreamer is often unaware of the dream until the waking. And if Rusti assumed she was dreaming and expected to awaken at any time, then why did she not open her eyes and find her bed and hear her music softly playing?

She moved and realized she was wearing her exo-suit. Memory slapped her and the girl flinched, realizing this was not a dream after all. And that was when she recalled a Faceless Darkness and how it shot right for Optimus.

Rusti gasped and felt the floor all around her. Where was he? She couldn't remember where she was in relation to his position before she passed out. The girl crawled about, listening to the muffled clink-clink of her exo-suit under her clothes. She paused to think logically. The hallway was huge and she could be crawling in a circle or in the wrong direction. Rusti turned to the direction she thought for sure she came and crawled in a straight line. A few moments drifted aimlessly before frustration got the best of her. She longed for light and never realized how she had taken her sight so much for granted. She didn't have a flashlight and Rusti didn't think anyone was going to come up here right away; even her comlink was dead. Optimus was here, unconscious, most likely badly hurt; that much she was sure. The girl bit her lip and refused to just give up and start crying. But dammit, where was he?

Maybe she crawled down the wrong end of the hall. Maybe she was far, far away from him . . . stupid girl, use your head! Rusti paused, sat on her knees and stretched her senses for her beloved.

Straight ahead.

Straight ahead.

Rusti trusted her senses and crawled cautiously forward. Oh, if she only had just one simple glimpse of the corridor so she knew where she was! Rusti wished she could have counted how many steps she took from the elevator. But, she mused, things like that aren't important when chasing monsters.

"Ow!" her voice nearly shook the silent world and her ears hurt from the sound. But she found him! Her hands groped, measuring crevices and corners and sure enough, it was Optimus. His body was warm to her touch-a good thing.

Blue light flashed and dimmed as his optics activated. Rusti found herself face to face with him. Her touch roused him either from sleep or unconsciousness. "Russti . . ." His voice came so quiet.

"I'm here!" She laid both hands on the rim of his helm. Her heart pattered and she tried to control her anxiety. "Optimus, are you bleeding? How can I get help?"

"Don't . . . leave me."

The depth of sadness in his voice touch her and Rusti could

not control her tears. She leaned wearily against him. An ache

jabbed at her breast bone as though invisible hands split her chest. She hissed inward and touched the metal breastplate under her blouse, finding it still secure. No blood.

No, she wasn't wounded. She was okay. The girl wiped her face with her sleeve before touching Prime's warm smooth metal just under his right optic sensor. She kissed the helm next to his optic and wiped her cheek again. "I have to get help," she decided out loud. Her voice sounded so small.

He remained silent, his optics did not flare or dim. Rusti assumed he was in shock. Her nose burned and more tears fell. She sniffed and searched her pockets for a tissue.

She found a used one and wiped her nose. "We need help, Optimus." her voice whispered. At least she did not have to raise it for him to hear. The girl turned to the great abyss of a hallway. She dreaded having to travel in a world cloaked in the dark. She'd have to grope about like a blind mouse in a labyrinth.

Rusti took a couple of deep breaths and decided to venture forward. She was bound to run into someone.

_Emergency . . . emergency lights . . . Rusti._ Prime's voice came so soft, she nearly did not Hear him.

Rusti's heart broke. It seemed Optimus was not aware Fort Max had lost power entirely. Otherwise, Max would have already seen to it emergency power was on. "It's all gone, Optimus. All out. I don't know why."

Optimus remained quiet for a long moment. He was awfully tired. If only Rodimus were here! _To the right, Russss-ti,_ he weakly suggested.

"Right of what, Optimus?"

_Right. Panel . . . triangle. _

She wrinkled her brows, perplexed. Rusti silently repeated his words then realized what he was saying. She kissed him again and crawled right. Oh Primus! Five steps, seven, nine-there. She hit the steadfast wall and fumbled for a triangular panel.

No, not here.

No, not this way.

Come on! Where was it! A headache touched her head and shortened her patience and temper.

Nope, not here, either.

Damn thing! Where?

She stood and probed, finding herself traveling further and further down. She stopped and retraced her steps, fearful of drifting too far from Optimus. Her fingers crossed a diagonal line, stretching almost too high for her to reach. Transformer-sized panels in a Transformer-sized world . . . she traced it until it ended abruptly and slanted down -this had to be it. She pressed it with all her weight and emergency red lighting shot on. The girl about yelped in excitement. She ran back to Prime and hugged him.

"We're going to be okay!" She sought his expression for signs of relief, but Prime's optics only dimmed. He was hurting. Rusti tried to comfort him with another measly hug but her action was little more than an ant trying to embrace a mountain.

"Optimus, there has to be somebody here who can help you. I have to find them-I think all communications are out; I'm not hearing anything at all."

He did not respond. Her heart ached. Leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do. But the girl forced herself anyway, returning once to give him a final hug. Rusti crept along the long foreboding hallway, hugging the wall. Her hands were as stiff and cold as the metal around her. She glanced once again toward Prime's huddled shape. The lighting cast a sorrowful red glow about his body, as though his metal skin were bathed in blood. She shuddered and pressed onward.

Minutes lagged into a time unaccounted. The girl paused, exhausted. Her head throbbed and she finally slumped against a wall. She did not want to leave Optimus! The girl forced herself back to her feet and moved on, resolute. He could die if she did not get help.

The hall came to an abrupt halt, as though someone had used a vibro-blade and sliced the metal clean through, revealing the 'guts' that made Fortress Maximus. In fact, the 'slicing' affected a whole wall to Rusti's right, disclosing an entire section of Transformer inner workings. Most of it looked nothing like machines made on earth. She marveled at it for a moment before taking a second to see what stood to her left.

That surprised her more than the wall. A moving sidewalk trailed some twenty feet from her. She faintly heard gears and rollers rumbling under it. Wasn't it strange that this thing should work when not even regular light was operational-and what the hell was it doing here on Level Four of Central Command?

Rusti cautiously approached the roving sidewalk and recognized it as a mechanism used on Upper Level for space travelers docking on the ports either toward the tower or from the ambassador suites. But this sidewalk looked different from that of Upper Level. Even in the awkward glow of the emergency lighting, Rusti could tell this side walk was not really from Upper Level at all. When she lifted her eyes, she discovered something else that did not belong: a huge turbo shaft like that in some of her Grandfather Witwicky's picture book from Cybertron. Rusti herself had never been to Cybertron, but she knew enough to recognize certain things.

The turbo shaft, too, was sliced clean along the side revealing the interior. Closer to the moving sidewalk, Rusti struggled to make out a plaque: MEDBAY LEVEL 3: MECHANICS. Her brows squished in puzzlement, making her headache worse. There was no 'Medbay' with a 'Level 3: Mechanics', not in Fort Sonix, Fort Sagittarius and not on Cybertron, that she knew of. The mystery ate her up with curiosity, but she had neither time nor strength to investigate. Optimus' situation was not going to wait.

She kept moving some fifty feet before the red light cast shadows upon unusual shapes like that of a mechanical insect, or several of them. "What in the name of Primus . . .?" She approached the 'insects' and her feet crunched on sand. She jumped back like a frightened cat and tried to see clearly through the harsh red glare. It gave her no further information and she resigned to removing her gloves and touched the ground.

Sand.

Sand! From what?

And the idea hit her.

No way! No friggin way! She came closer and found half a swing set; two seats still swinging, though there were no occupants in them. Nearby stood a jungle gym standing ominously apart, waiting like an empty dungeon for new prisoners.

"Is somebody here?" she called. "Is there anybody here besides me?" Her voice seemed so loud it hurt her ears. Only the dreadful quiet met her call. It was as though the red light swallowed her words. It gave her the 'willies'.

Where could she go from here? The girl gazed right and spotted other shapes distorted by the poor lighting. To her left stood another wall. Behind her trailed the moving sidewalk. What caused Max to lose power and where did all this stuff come from? Was someone responsible for it all? Did the Quintessons do this? And if so, where were they?

Whether or not they were responsible, she needed to move on. But if that were the case, then which way should she take? Rusti rolled her eyes as the idea of using 'inny, minni, mighty-moe.' But it seemed, for the moment, the only logical way to make a decision. She sighed, setting her left hand on a hip and swore she'd never, ever confess this to Rodimus: she pointed right first and swung back and forth as she said the verse.

'It' landed on her left. That was the way to go. Rusti wearily trudged across the sandy ground as she replaced her glove and rounded the wall. She stumbled once and caught herself, again realizing how tired she really was. No, no! Move on! Don't stop! She got up and marched toward the wall.

To her surprise, there was nothing behind the wall except more metal flooring; it stood completely by itself. Nothing made sense! Rusti leaned heavily against it. She was too tired for this. Her chest and arms hurt, her head ached. She rested a moment and closed her eyes.

The girl sank to her knees and it felt good to sit down.

She let her legs straighten out from under her.

It was nice to sit more comfortably. She needed to rest. Sleep called her from far, far away.

Dark. Dark. Her heart fluttered then stopped all together.

Scratch. Ssssssk. Scratch. Tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak.

Rusti's eyes shot open and she caught her breath.

What was that?

She feebly jostled her head. A stupid dream. What an idiot! She dozed off! Rusti forced herself to her feet. She staggered and caught herself when her feet tried to fail. Her body just didn't want to cooperate. She waited a moment, catching her breath and taking several more deep breaths. Silly girl! Whatever was wrong, she needed to get over it! Slowly she felt strength returning to her legs, though the pain in her head regenerated with greater vigor. How annoying! But now her chest hurt too, as though someone were trying to crack her sternum. Chills coursed up and down her back and she resolutely ordered herself not to listen to her complaining body.

Walking forward, Rusti came to another hall on her right and a glass barrier to the left and nothing beyond that. Her face scrunched in both puzzlement and pain. She was in no mood for this. If it were a dream, it was stupid. If it were real . . . well, really, she hoped it was not real.

And what if this were someone's idea of a mind game?

Could the Quintessons really cook up something this complex? And if so, why would they make her sick?

Scratch. Tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak.

She spun around with a gasp but saw nothing. "Hello?" She called, "is somebody there?" She waited about three beats, "Hellooo? Anybody?" But again silence swallowed her words and Rusti did not feel comfortable enough to say anything else. If she were alone, then why did she feel as though she were being watched? If there was someone else there, why did they not answer her calls? Without thinking about it, the girl automatically turned left and trailed down a long doorless corridor. She did not consider questioning why there were no doors down the hall, nor was she well enough to question as to why there was no ceiling above her. She kept forward, her mind slowly folding into the growing darkness about her. Red light shed from no definite source as though the light were omnipresent. Her thoughts returned to Optimus, her memory grew with thoughts at her feeble attempt to prevent a nightmare. Something attacked Optimus before the world changed. Was it the cause of this living nightmare?

And what of Freak?

Freak! She had nearly forgotten all about the imaginative figment haunting her. The memory of it caused her chest to spaz in sharp pain and she gasped and slipped again. Her breath left her and no matter what she did, Rusti could not get her breath back. She wanted to scream and it too failed her. She squeezed her eyes shut and would have grasped the metal under her fingers, if she had that kind of strength.

Then her breath came back and she gasped, but it hurt like hell to breathe. Her eyes watered and her nose ran.

Did she just have a heart attack? Was that how one felt? She sat on her knees and her breath came in another gasp as she heaved and began to sob. What was going on? Why was she having so much pain? Why was she so sick lately? It seemed she was always sick and everyone insisted it was all in her head, that she was a hypochondriac. Well, no. That wasn't entirely true. People acknowledged she was sick, they just didn't know with what. One doctor gave a wild guess, but even he wasn't so sure.

Rusti threw her head back and took several deep breaths, insisting her body do exactly as she told it. This was not the time to whine like a baby. She forced herself up and allowed her hand to trail along the wall for added support.

Then the hall 'broke' off. Except for a door to her left, there was no more hallway. No, there was no wall to end the hall, there just wasn't anything there at all.

"What the . . .?" Rusti dared a peek off the edge and found nothing but abysmal darkness. She stretched her hand and found nothing more than air. She shuddered with terror and then she realized she now had a fever. Well, she could deal with a fever; it was better than a heart attack.

The nearby door caught her attention but the girl was indecisive at this point. If the hall came to such a sudden end, then what could the ONLY door in the hall provide? Was there a room there? Or would the door open to nothing? Would it open to a brick wall? Maybe the dream would show that the door was her means of waking and it would be Sunday and she and Optimus might be able to spend time in his garden. It was hard, however. He seemed so tired lately, as though he were neither resting nor recharging well. She decided to open the door.

A long case of stairs trailed down, down from where she stood. It seemed endless in the bleak red lighting and Rusti's hope failed. If she were the only person here and this was the only way to get help, it might be too late to help Optimus before he falls into stasis. She covered her face with her hand, grieving. But no tears came this time. She swallowed them, deciding that it was okay if Optimus fell into stasis. They could revive him easily enough. But she wondered if he would have the strength of will to come out of stasis.

No! She pressed her lips tightly and abandoned that line of thought. Optimus was a fighter, weak or not! He wasn't going to leave her, he loved her, whether he ever said it or not. She took another deep breath, still finding breathing painful, and started the long journey down.

She trailed many steps until she slipped, fell and caught herself on the rail guard (thank Primus there WAS one!). The fall could have been very bad. She lay there, arms stretched above her, clutching the rail as her head raced in circles. Her sides ached and her breath came in gasps. After several moments, Rusti feebly pulled herself up a step and sat there, gathering her wits. It was hard to see and difficult to keep going without making a great deal of noise. She wasn't sure if it was safe to call out or not. She did not feel safe. Just keep moving, she told herself. Just a little further. Someone is bound to be downstairs. Someone is always downstairs.

Scratch. Ssssssk. Scratch. Tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak.

"Hello?" she called, "Is someone there? Hello?"

No answer.

Scratch. Scratch. Tip-tak, tip-tak.

She did not see anything. "If someone is there, this is not funny!"

No answer. Rusti prayed it was only her imagination. Her headache might be responsible for the hallucination. She started to continue when a transparent shape wafted in the air in front of her, bending and stretching the fall of red light about her. The tall shape wreathed back and forth like a dancer. It reached at least seven or eight feet. She could not see it clearly because . . . because it was invisible?

Invisible?

It struck at her and Rusti caught her breath and ducked, slipping between what she thought were a set of powerful legs. The girl tumbled down seven steps, just missing its whipping tail by inches.

Tip-tak, tip-tak, tip-tak.

Where did it go? Where?

The girl's heart raced and she decided she didn't want to know. Rusti bounded down the steps as fast as she could. Her heart pounded so that she thought it would blow right out of her.

A snake-hiss touched her left ear. Rusti softly squealed and instinctively ducked. A WHAP-SNAP! Shot just behind her and she fell down three remaining steps before landing on a platform sitting in the middle of nowhere. She slammed her back to a wall and pointed a finger in the approximate location of the creature. Three bursts of light shot from the suit.

The thing screeched and thwacked its tail wildly, smacking the wall then the rail before it lay still altogether. Its body appeared as blood dribbled. The steps sizzled and crumbled as the blood touched them.

Rusti's eyes widened. Acidic blood? What kind of freakish thing was that and where did it come from? She side-stepped her way to the last case of stairs. Her heart sank when she realized she'd have to go down one more miserable staircase. Rusti's throbbing head caused her legs to shake and she did not know how steady she'd be going down. The girl thought of sitting on the floor and scooting down one step at a time.

Before she touched the rail, a soft chank-chank hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

"No!" She wailed.

Scratch-tak, tak came from behind and something breathed on her hair. She screamed and purposefully landed on her back then rolled as a thunk-chink hit the floor where she lay a second ago.

Chank, chank, chank, chank.

The invisible creature hissed and growled at the on-coming sound. A flash of light momentarily lit the stairs and Rusti covered her eyes as a whack-thwack-thump kissed the wall then the floor.

"It's okay," a soft masculine voice came a moment later, "it's dead."

Rusti lowered trembling hands from her face and scanned for the owner of the voice. Sure enough, a Humanoid figure stood before her. Red lighting illuminated headpiece and shoulders, highlighting a metal suit of armor.

Perhaps it was childish, but Rusti could not help but to cry. "Help, help!" Her voice squeaked in her ears. Feebly, she tried to hide her eyes, praying someone would rescue her Love, "Opt'mus. Opt'mus . . . help!"

The masculine person gently lifted her upper body, cradling her head against his shoulder. He paused a moment and Rusti thought she felt him scan her life signs. He gathered the rest of her in his arms and carried her away.

------------------------------------

First was darkness. Then a rush of noise shot through her ears and pounded against her bones. Then Rusti plunged into lukewarm water. She sank slowly toward her death. Seconds stretched like years.

She tried to breathe; mistake Number One. Water filled her lungs.

She tried to open her eyes. Mistake Number Two. It wasn't water, but Transformer blood.

She tried to cry out for help. Mistake Number Three.

Rusti fought to clear her mind as images drilled themselves into her. She tried to lift her hands to ward them off, to keep her mind to herself. But someone else's memories forced themselves upon her.

Another . . . phased behind Rodimus and grabbed him round the neck. The other alien yanked Rodimus off his feet and jammed a vibro-spear straight into his chest.

Rusti came up for air . . . she lost wind with the impact of Rodimus' submersion. She slammed her head against a bulkhead, her back against a fallen railing.

Scream! Scream, dammit! It'll be the last thing you do in life! Scream! And the girl gasped for breath, for some measure of air to fill her lungs. Her hands grasped nothing. She arched her back, pushing her way through the watery blood to taste the air cold on her face and she finally screamed.

Sweat soaked her skin and drenched her hair. She screamed as though tormented. But it was out and someone's kind hands wrapped themselves about her stiffened body.

"Shhhhh! Shhhhhh! Sh, sh, sh!" _Here, Little One. You're not alone. Here I am._ The sound was feminine and Rusti's eyes shot wide open. She gulped air, coughed, and wept hard, terrified that what she experienced was not so much a dream as it was prelude to a deja vu; the girl was certain she was going to live that again later in life. Someone embraced her tightly and rocked, trying to sooth her distress with soft words. Little by little Rusti managed to calm. Who held her? It wasn't her mother; not with a voice like that; for the lady almost sang in her mind. It was strange, but calming.

"It'll be a miracle if we survive without incident, the way that girl carries on." The voice was afar off, but Rusti heard the crisp, snapping voice of someone older than she and certainly masculine. But it was not the voice of the same person who rescued her; her rescuer's voice was much softer than that.

"She's ill and needs better care than what can be provided here." There! That was her hero! Well, he didn't have Optimus' wonderful baritone voice, but it was kind enough and Rusti was glad to hear something familiar.

"Well, there's a small inconvenience for your genius, Doctor Scott! Maybe one of your oversized tin-canned friends could graciously build you a nice little office complete with scanning equipment, exam table and a microwave for popcorn. Or! Or maybe they decided to ditch us entirely for something else to do . . . like calculate the meaning of life, love and the pursuit of happiness."

Rusti assumed 'Doctor Scott' was her rescuer. Maybe he could help her find help for Optimus, too. But . . . now that she thought of it, there was no 'Doctor Scott' in EDC that she knew of. "That's enough," came the gentle voice again.

"It is, now, Miss Kayla?" and that was the 'crisp voice' again. Rusti assumed 'Kayla' was the one who took care of her. Were there two doctors then? "Alright. Well, what do you plan to do about the rest of us, Doctor Scott? What can you do for that lady, Mrs. Strills that's missing an arm? Or that alien, Beldoun Tor, that's missing three fingers and some of her hair? Or what about all of Miss Shanygn's little invisible pets? Do you think they've figured out by now that we've changed addresses?"

Just vaguely, Rusti caught onto most of that conversation. She didn't catch all the names, but she recognized none of them, either. And what was that remark about the 'invisible pets?' Wasn't there something invisible that tried to kill her? No, no! There was too much going on! Rusti wanted to get her body back under control but it did not respond to anything she desired. Her senses told her, however, that there were more than three people around her. Scuffling noises came and left her range of hearing and some other lady's voice shot off in the dark: "Why can't you shut up? You've done nothing but whine like a starved puppy the minute we landed here. Is it really too much to ask you to just zip it?"

The 'crisp' voice answered, but only with a mutter. Then it paused before raising his voice again: "We have a food and water situation and here the three of you huddle about this . . . child while there are others who require attendance." There was more spoken, but weariness called the girl down into darkness and Rusti found she could not fight off sleep. At least she was not all alone in the dark.

She awoke a little later-or at least her mind told her it was later. That's how it was with naps. It's easy to lose track of time, only to find very little time had actually passed. Rusti shivered with fever and tried to ignore her body's misbehavior by guessing where she was: in another part of the EDC complex; a part she'd not been to before . . . maybe? Or was she in a different area of Fort Max altogether? That would not be so odd; Fort Max was huge.

But these people were unfamiliar. Those who seemed to be in charge wore armor unlike any she'd seen before. Kayla, the lady who attended her, had a pair of magnificent dark eyes that glittered gold with or without light. A set of thick Ram's horns curled round the lady's head like a crown, the tips accenting her high cheeks. Thick brown hair tumbled from behind and above those horns. The features would have been menacing were they not tempered with a kind and gentle face. Rusti felt comfortable with Kayla.

Dark blue metal armored Doctor Scott's frame shoulder to toe. It was most definitely he that rescued Rusti earlier. With the exception of one other lady, and the other doctor that argued with Scott, the rest of the people wore hospital attire. But this was not Medical or anywhere near the Research and Development district. Why were they here? And who were they?

An inkling of sound touched her mind and Rusti thought she heard it from behind her. She struggled against the couch and tried to sit up until she realized she was caught in a dream. She relaxed and decided to just let her mind wander. Sound trickled through the air, soft, almost unheard. It grew then added another string of sound to it.

Music.

Music? Where was it coming from? She opened her eyes and found Kayla gone. A small sphere no larger than an adult male's fist floated in the air shedding light upon their limited world. Under its direct influence, the light brought out surrealistic colors as though from a crazy computer program. In other areas, where the brightness faded, the red lighting took precedence and washed that part of the world in blood. Rusti rolled to her right, away from the back of the couch. She and many other people resided in the rest area in what was the reception lobby of Fort Max's Central Command. Rusti recognized the plants, the four couches and six cushioned chairs. There were three tables burdened with magazines and a small cabinet offering coffee or water. several people occupied the other resting places nearby. In the background Rusti picked out various sounds of coughing, someone complaining of pain and a fussing baby.

Through it all, she heard the Music and wondered if someone were either making it, or her head was playing games with her.

Rusti did not hear Doctor Scott approach her. She wondered how the suit managed to move so quietly, even over metal flooring. "How are you doing?" He asked softly.

She thought about her physical condition. "Okay, I guess." she answered quietly. "Where are we? What is this place?"

"We don't know." Scott replied, using a similar tone. "We hoped you might tell us. You're the only person we've found from your dimension who isn't frozen." Rusti wasn't sure she heard him right but in seeing his kind smile, decided not to worry about it for the moment. He seemed fairly young for a doctor, maybe somewhere in his forties. "What's your name, hon?"

She liked it when he called her that. "Rusti." she whispered.

"Rusti, can you tell me what was the last thing you remembered before everything changed around you?"

Whispers of another presence touched her mind. The Music reacted and she envisioned disturbed vibrations tracing the walls. It filtered through her mind and she pictured a shape emerging from the darkest of the Dark. It was not Freak, for it beheld the world without eyes. "I was doing homework." she finally answered.

"Homework?"

"Yeah. High school, you know."

"And what happened after that?"

Rusti struggled to recollect but images of the eyeless thing nagged and tugged at her mind's eye. She imagined the creature or thing slithering along the walls. Its body stretched to unrealistic lengths.

Kyle watched as her confused expression shifted to uneasiness. "What is it?" he asked.

"Shadows slithering in the dark." Her voice barely reached above a whisper. "I don't know what it is; it's here."

Despite his doubt, Kyle scanned the room with his eyes, tracing walls and dotting along the floor then tried to search the ceiling through the anti-grav light. Nothing. "I don't see anything, Rusti."

Rusti merely covered her face with her hands. Something tugged at the back of her mind but she could not figure out what was wrong. Her head throbbed again and beckoned her to sleep. Her chest ached with a dull pain and Rusti remembered the heart attack she had (or thought she had). Sadness tugged her soul as an off-topic thought came to her: "There are no little girls on Cybertron, Doctor Scott. Did you know that? No sunshine, no trees. Just metal, cold air and darkness. No wonder Optimus stayed on Earth. So many people ask him why but the answer belongs to him and he won't tell them because they think Cybertron is a wonderful place; only because it's so different."

A scraping sound touched Kyle's ears and his scanners jumped to life. Doctor Scott sprang to motion and scanned the room. Rusti watched him and wanted to crawl away and hide. Something was wrong, something he had not told her. Pain in her chest expanded to her shoulders and forced her to remain still. She watched as the doctor, Kayla and another lady in armor paced about the lobby. Helmets snapped about their heads and if they communicated, it must have been on a private frequency. Her eyes caught another figure to her left. It looked like an Autobot from the distance, but Rusti could not tell who it might have been. Perhaps he was a Paratron, but in the poor lighting, she could not be sure. He too scanned the room, a lit pair of optics flashed then died as the robot turned from her.

Rusti sighed and settled back down. Doctor Scott was gone for a while. The girl eased herself into closing her eyes and just listening to conversations around her, trying to piece together exactly what had happened, what crazed manifestation had affected the world.

She woke later, sensing Doctor Scott's presence. There was something odd about the armor he wore; it was definitely not EDC-issue. Kayla rejoined them after helping the baby. Her smile greeted Rusti, but the girl didn't feel like returning it. She wanted to close her eyes again, but curiosity kept her awake.

Doctor Scott gazed at Kayla and Rusti glanced from one adult to the other. His fingers tapped over the scanner in his hands before his eyes rested on Rusti. "You know, when I found you, Rusti, I took the liberty to scan your life readings. I'm not sure if my equipment is 'off' or if your life signs are somehow affected by the bubble reality. But it seems you are missing the gamma-wave life force. Are you aware of that?"

Rusti noticed Kayla's shocked expression and felt like a bug scrutinized by a child. "She should not even be alive!"

The doctor did not answer. Rusti meekly nodded but could not look at either of them. "Doctor Hanson said that once a long time ago. I don't know what it means." Her hand unintentionally laid over her chest as a javelin of pain sliced between her breasts. She almost could not breathe.

Kyle gazed at her a long moment before turning his scanner off. "A life force frequency, Rusti, is how we absorb things into our souls. Like the body, the soul takes in nourishment and breathes. The Alpha frequency uses the perception of light. It's more than seeing with our eyes. It's how we need the sun.'

'Beta is the ability to use all the physical senses such as taste and touch to tell the difference between reality and how we perceive reality from either dreaming or imagination.'

'Delta is the absorbency of sound either in communication, since most all sentient creatures need to communicate to other intelligent life forms, or in music. We often don't just listen to music, we use it to feed our souls.'

Gamma is the utilization of light frequencies given off by living things like other people or natural objects like animals, water or trees. Life force itself gives off a type of light necessary to our existence. That's why many people are compelled to take vacations to wilderness areas like the mountains or the ocean or why some people crave being around other people.'

'You, however, do not seem to have the ability to produce or properly absorb Gamma wave life force."

That was upsetting. No one said anything of the kind to her before and Rusti wondered . . . "Does that mean I'm going to die?" She swallowed hard and tried to bite back tears.

Scott shook his head. "You've lived this long without it and I didn't pick up any real damage. But you are very ill and still in shock. I want to give you something to let you rest, alright?"

It was a kind offer but Rusti doubted it would help. Of course, if the people around them would not be so noisy, she would sleep. The word 'shock' flashed through her mind and wracked her brains. She struggled to recall what was so important about 'shock.' Her mind raced. Dammit, what was it? There stood a long case of stairs alone in a great shaft of darkness. Now that her mind seemed to clear on one aspect of thought, Rusti realized the stairs she descended had a railing on just one side and no wall on the other and the steps floated in the air with no support. Then she remembered coming down from a floor that also floated and the light, what light there could have been, betrayed her senses so that she thought she saw things that could never be.

Scott moved to touch her neck with the hypo the girl parried, "Wait a minute . . ." Adrenalin raced through her now as her mind shot from the world surrounding her to something Optimus said.

"I SUSPECT THE SHOCK OF IT WOULD BE TOO GREAT TO BEAR AND THE MATRIX IS STRUGGLING TO KEEP IT FROM ME." The Matrix and the Music. Muzik. Muxik. She shuddered as words brought to her disturbing images. Something about insanity . . . fragments of images of a faceless thing living in the dark. And as her mind raced, she sensed the walls crawled with a living thing.

"What's wrong?"

"The walls are moving again." she whispered.

He turned around, "Well, there is a shadow or darkness to the north. I'm not sure what it really is . . ."

His words trailed off to silence as Rusti's mind drifted from him:

"IT'S A SHADOW IN THE DARKNESS. THE MATRIX IS HIDING IT FROM ME." There was fear in Optimus' voice, but it was discernable only to those who knew him better than the average Autobot. The memory of a paper-thin alien in an elevator seeped back into her mind and Rusti's blood ran cold. Her breath would not come. She'd forgotten all about Optimus! How selfish could she be to forget that her friend was in pain and in danger and waiting for her to return!

The girl sprang off the couch as the adrenalin swept through her body like a fever. She dashed across the room, rounding three and four people in hospital attire and the other lady in armor. She heard Doctor Scott calling after her as she clambered up the floating stairs. The other lady in armor and two nurses gave chase. As the girl leapt up three and four steps. They didn't have the advantage as she did; playing Dinobot football, she learned to move fast and dodge quickly.

Rusti heard Doctor Scott's voice trailing behind, ordering people not to hurt her. Well, rather than giving chase, they should be following her to help Optimus Prime. Someone caught Rusti round the ankle and her body slammed hard on the stairs. The other nurse caught up and the two ladies dragged her back to the floor. Rusti struggled back to her feet and turned to dash right back up when one nurse grabbed her and kicked her feet out from under her. Rusti slammed hard on her back, the wind knocked out from her. The attacking nurse pinned her to the floor and Rusti screamed in frustration.

"CONTROL YOURSELF!" the nurse shouted back and the girl braced, expecting to get her face slapped.

"LET GO OF ME!" she screamed with all her might, "OPTIMUS IS SICK AND I WON'T LET HIM DIE! I WON'T LET HIM DIE!" Rusti squirmed under the nurse's slightly overweight body and managed to get free. The nurse reached to trip her again and then Rusti took control by kicking her in the face. She shoved the nurse with such strength, it surprised everyone around her and the other nurse backed off. Doctor Scott and the other armored woman raced after as Rusti scrambled up the stairwell again. Now all the strength and determination she had a moment ago died away, wasted on that stupid nurse.

Rusti did not reach more than eight steps before she lost her footing. She slipped, fell and pushed herself up again. But she fell once more and made a third attempt before Scott caught up with her and shot her with the hypo.

She weakly slapped his chest and wept. "Optimus is in trouble, you bastard! Let me get to him! Let me get to him!" Her adrenaline dissipated and Rusti wilted into his arms. She wept softly as the hypo numbed her body into ineffectiveness. Her mind darkened again and she drifted, taking her surroundings into bleak consideration. This was the lobby of Central Command. There was the receptionist's desk right over there. And of course, there were the three main rest areas. But what was that part of the playground doing over there? And why were those plants floating in the air? The walls hissed around them and Rusti envisioned their molecules scrambling about like static on the television.

Rusti felt her body waver a moment as Doctor Scott laid her elsewhere. No, not on a bed or even the couch, but in someone else's arms. They probably did not trust her enough to lay her anywhere. But sooner or later they would grow tired of holding her

"I think we should get everyone upstairs."

Rusti vaguely heard Doctor Scott's voice. Her mind phased in and out of consciousness. Something was wrong, but nobody told her anything. Yet she sensed things that traveled about the walls and the walls themselves moved. Her heart bled for Optimus. Why wouldn't they listen to her? Maybe it was that she lost her mind and traveled in dreams.

That had to be it! She had lost her mind. Rusti mourned, but the drug kept the tears at bay while she drifting through fogs of thought. Was this how her life was going to be, now? Was it true that Optimus and Roddi had taken her to a hospital and left her there with strangers? Maybe they had no choice. And if that was the case, it was all Freak's fault. Freak caused her to lose her mind. Freak made her hallucinate and remember things she never learned about nor lived through.

Her mind receded again, drifting along a current of dreams and figments. Rusti thought she heard things tapping or scraping within the walls. She imagined people dancing in a fit of degenerating madness.

Rusti was not aware that she lived not in shadow of disease nor did she walk in dreams unspoken by men or gods. At the moment of the virus' physical attack against Optimus Prime, a ripple of chronoenergy smashed against the reality known to Earth and Fort Max. The wave froze every Human, alien, child and Autobot in their tracks, their bodies locked in blue ice, preventing their bodies from certain destruction.

But there came more than the time ripple. In another place, in another dimension, an energy ribbon passed through Cybertron at the exact moment, touching a Holy Power. A rebounding shock tore into the dimensional fabric. A string of proto-reality stretched from one dimension to the other conjoining the two realities. Some might call it a worm hole, but it was very small, fragile. Those who were touched by its energies prevented the tunnel from collapsing. The power of their life forces created a bubble universe, protecting those around them. The bubble universe was a small thing, maybe not more than three hundred feet around. But it stabilized in the currents of time and solidified into its own reality.

The music spoke to Rusti again. It told her of darkness and of things living in deep places in the universe; for the universe was not simply the physical reality, but that of the mind; those things of abstract substances that did not take physical form, but existed just the same. Rusti did not understand much of it for her life did not expand to that level; she was Human and yet a child even by Human standards.

The Music tipped into a soft beat. Its tempo pulsated into a rhythm like the time-lapse of a field of blossoming flowers exploding to life. The tempo strengthened so that it seemed more of a great heartbeat; that of a living creature inhaling, exhaling and inhaling again. From there the sounds of a soft gong echoed within Rusti's mind and a picture faded into focus.

It was Roddi that dimmed into the focus of her consciousness. Grey shadows darkened the world about the Autobot leader as he sat on his knees and stared into an empty floating wall. Its blackness reflected nothing; not even light touched its unholy surface. The wall seemed to be a monolith of total non existence.

The Music haunted the reality between Rodimus and Rusti and she knew he could also hear Its echo as it bled Matrix energy. It trickled into his soul. Rusti knew this because she envisioned it on his face. The Matrix spoke to him in a soft pleading voice. But Roddi did not answer. The Music echoed into deeper tones as though it were reaching into another level down. Down. Down.

Rusti watched as the anguish of the voice roused Roddi's own grief. But he did not cry. She did. Rusti cried for him, fearful of the consequences. For the girl knew Faceless Darkness moved here. It was in the walls. It was on the floor. It spirited through the air guised as oxygen molecules so that every person here, every robot that walked among the armored people, breathed it in. It touched them and twisted them, their bodies bathed in its malignancy.

The sorrowful voice of the Matrix filtered through the air again, breaking Rusti's heart. Its sadness filtered poison into Rodimus' soul. Rusti noticed how the poison twisted his own sorrow. Then to her surprise, his sorrow shifted and solidified into a more intense emotion: rage.

The poison churned in a slow boil like oil over white-hot fire. Boil, boil, trouble and toil, cold white heat. So hot that it turned cold and turned him inside out and oh, the sin of it all. Rusti sensed Rodimus drank that poison and it mutated into a lust for death. Rodimus Prime's hunched form turned grey as though his spark failed. His form suddenly shot to life, as he gasped once for breath. His color snapped back except his optics remained dead dark.

She didn't want to see anymore and tried to turn away. What happened just then? Maybe it was all a terrible thought, an evil dream, maybe just a fleeting vision of things that could not possibly be.

But the girl, as much as she wished she could deny the truth, did not think it possible to ignore the fact that she just saw Rodimus plunge into whatever darkness infected the Matrix.

The sea of unconscious darkness assailed her senses again and for a while Rusti drifted in a fog of dreamlessness. Voices entered her ears then faded out like abstract dreams in a foreign film. For a while the girl listened carefully for the Music. But the Music was not playing at the moment. It waited, obviously, for something to whisk it to life, carry it off into a new tempo of activity.

There! A tinkle, like jewelry box music. Twinkle, twinkle little star . . . tell me of the monster you are. Your dark little soul touches my mind. I can see you, though I'm blind.

Rusti opened her eyes meeting the brash lighting from the center of the rest area wherein lay most of the survivors within the bubble universe. Something assured the girl several people had already died. The same Something told her most of the survivors here would never see their home again. Their souls were not strong enough to cross back through the wormhole from where they came. They were dragged here like so much light weight material traveling along the crest of ocean wave and dropped along the coarse grainy beaches. It was not their fault they came, but they would not be going back.

No more home for them; their little lives would be trapped in this reality for all eternity, reliving events now taking place.

That made Rusti wonder how often Optimus felt he were reliving events.

Rusti's thought of him caused the Music to stir around her. It touched the air and swirled through the blackness. It raced along hidden boundaries and nudged against the survivors, hoping one of them would take notice. But these people knew nothing of the Music or its power. In fact, one survivor lay dying because the Music's own life force was poison to him.

Rusti thought it very sad. For the Music was beautiful. It sang to her; told her of things, even now, as it existed in sadness and the dark. It feared for Optimus and Rodimus. But It also did not care.

The girl tried to reach out to it with her hand. The drugs in her system tried to override her longing to touch the Music and keep her in silence. But Rusti's own stubborn power refused to adhere to such notions. Why should something as infinitely insignificant as a chemical keep her from the Music's responsive touch?

For that matter, why was she allowing the chemical to keep her from getting help to Optimus Prime? Wasn't that a wrong thing to do? She did, after all, set out to get help for him. But here she lay, a limp form in the midst of chaos, of adults and Transformers struggling to survive a reality trapped in its own time frame. She was useless to them; an irrational thing whose hysterics annoyed all but the most patient.

The Music rose dramatically for a moment. Something was going to happen and soon and Rusti needed to get someone motivated to help Optimus.

True. True. She'd have to tell her body to obey her every command. It'd do no good to struggle unless she had the power to move faster than those adults in the armor-suites. She'd have to outrun them, out think them. The girl always prided herself in being able to make a nuisance of herself either at home with her parents, or at school. Perhaps now was the best time.

Rusti concentrated on her muscles, telling them all they needed to do exactly what she said. Of course, the chemicals in her body would sneer at her feeble attempts to escape Kayla, but it was a challenge Rusti was willing to try.

Deep breath. Deep breath. Run for the stairs. They had to be here. Ready? One. Two. Th-

And the girl shot to her feet like a cat scared out of its wits. She heard Kayla calling after:

"No! No, Rusti, come back! Rusti!" Rusti heard Kayla's exo-suit tap the flooring with small klank-klanks. Then a second set of feet joined in the chase. Keep going, she told herself. Find the stairs! She heard the other armored woman mention something about a namphry, but Rusti did not catch all of it. Then the lady called out to her directly: "Rusti! This is not a smart thing to do."

That did not daunt the girl from her goal. She found the stairs but just before she touched the first one, some poisoned sharp blade pierced her from her spine through her sternum. Rusti thought she was having another heart attack. Her breath left her and she stumbled forward, back arched, chin in the air. The jabbing pain shot through her twice again until she stopped moving altogether. She grasped the stairway and tried to ignore the fact that her fingertips glowed more intensely. What was going on? Was she dying? Was the Music that she loved so much slowly killing her?

It hurt to breathe and she gasped and fought tears and wheezed, trying to get air into her lungs. The muscles in her upper arms constricted tightly then melted under her skin. She was going nowhere. Her body betrayed her determination. How

pathetic! Here she was going to save the universe and all its creatures, claim right, might and glory by saving Optimus Prime (yeah, right!) And now look at her! Some hero! Lie down right, here, Rusti. Keel over and DIE like the simpering little child that you are! Who the HELL do you think you are, God's gift to the universe? Do you really think you're that great or invincible? Simple little girl caught in a world where she doesn't belong and she can't even gather her own wits enough to get someone to help a dying Autobot leader.

What a joke!

Rusti wanted to cry, but could not. She wanted to scream but could not do that either-nor would she dare for fear of whatever Faceless Darkness lay waiting here. She pounded the floating stairs with her fist until she managed to pull her body into movement and crawled up three steps then one more then one more after that

"There you are!" The Kshi bee-lined for Rusti, finding her sitting on the fifth step of another stair rail. She knelt before the girl and brushed curly red hair from the girl's eyes. "Sweety, this is not a good thing to do. Let's get back to the camp-"

"Optimus is up there and he needs help!"

Kayla smiled sadly and her eyes drifted down, her eyes attracted to the girl's softly glowing fingernails. "Rusti, we can't do anything for him here-"

"But I need to get to him!" Rusti's voice rang in determination she took two steps.

Kayla grasped her right hand, keeping her from going further. "You can't do anything for him, not really. Let's get back to the camp and tell Rodimus Prime-"

"No! I'm NOT leaving him by himself!" She scampered but not fast enough. The other woman caught her round the middle. Rusti kicked and struggled until Kayla gripped her arm and shot her in the neck with a hypo. Rusti gasped in shock. She forgot about the hypo! But she passed out before another thought crossed her mind.

. . . N-n-n-no-o-o-oppp. The . . . boyyyyssssss found . . . kitchen . . ." Rusti sluggishly came back to her senses. She lay with her head to a wall, a blanket tossed over her. The Music filtered through the air all about her. Voices rode along its tempo, creating an eerie sound worse than that of some movies she had seen. The Music told her of a world cast in grey shadows and nowhere to run and hide. It told her of monsters seeking a way to devour the survivors in the little bubble universe. The Music's tempo also strengthened in the girl's mind, reminding her of Optimus' present condition. She needed to get him help.

"Ssssoooo far, no . . . hangnail . . . xenomorph. Magnus."

The voice filtered in and out of her mind and Rusti tried with all her might to clear her head so as to find out what was going on. The voice kept echoing, its tremor now inaudible to her as her senses betrayed her to the drug. She tried to unconsciously push the drug effects out of her mind. The more she tried, the clearer things around her became but it was agonizingly slow at best. What was that word the voice used? Xeno-something? What was that? All the survivors around her were clearly nervous about something. Maybe that was why they fought; they knew about the monster riding along the walls. But now that the girl thought of it, the walls surrounding them now were not the same as before. They were in a different area but she was so drugged up now that Rusti had no clear idea where she was except for the stairs. She knew exactly where they were because she knew how to listen to the Music. It told her. She was surprised no one else heard It.

Maybe they did, but either did not recognize It or ignored Its resonance as just another noise in their head.

Think, girl, think! Push it all out of your system! Get up! Get up, dammit and move! MOVE! Yes! That was it! Rusti managed to twitch a finger then two. She breathed more deeply and fought off the drug's effects. MOVE! She thought of Ultra Magnus and how he'd drive the Autobot troops through the city-MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!

She took several more deep breaths and managed to clear the webs out of her brain. Yes! She was doing it! And the Music grew clearer, too. She could feel it everywhere around her; in the walls, the light above, the very air everyone breathed.

"I'm a doctor, Colonel Frasier, not a chronologist."

A real voice! It was the doctor that spoke. Rusti recognized it clearly and she smiled. The girl opened her eyes to a labyrinth world of walls and a rest area from the second floor of Central Command. This was the human area of the building that came complete with medical rooms, Doctor Hanson's office, a kitchen and dining area and three meeting rooms for EDC officers or others who had business that required them to remain overnight. Rusti's room was on the second floor overlooking the western side of the city.

"The only person who can explain anything is sound asleep."

Rusti had no idea what they were talking about. She guessed there to be several people around her who believed her to be asleep. Something burned into her right side and Rusti groaned, moving just slightly.

"I thought you gave her a tranq." Doctor Scott's voice carried from Rusti to someone else. She presumed it was Kayla to whom he spoke, since it was she who gave Rusti the drug.

"I did." The lady's voice filtered the air in a much softer tone. Rusti met Doctor Scott's gaze as he checked her temperature then her pulse. Now! Now was the time to tell him about Optimus! She struggled to sit up so as to explain the urgency.

"You'll be alright, Rusti." he promised softly. He tried to get her to lay back down.

In spite of the fact that the girl managed to escape the drug's sleeping effect, it still left her groggy and unable to vocally articulate well. She could not sit up or move about as freely as she once thought. "Optimus . . ." Her words came in slurred whispers, "please . . . somebody help him." It was so frustrating! She knew what she needed to say but her body refused to do anything she wanted.

But she could still cry! What a wimp! She melted into tears but did not have the strength to cover her face. The girl looked elsewhere, embarrassed.

"We will help him, I promise." Doctor Scott seemed earnest in his promise. Part of Rusti wanted to trust him. Another part screamed at her to tell him everything, to let him know about Optimus, not lie here waiting for whatever else might come. "We just can't get to him yet." The doctor kindly brushed her tears, settled in a more comfortable seating position before her and produced his medical scanner.

Rusti listened to its faint trill as the scanner traced her body one side to the other. Her body suddenly desired sleep, but she fought it fiercely.

"Rusti?" she forgot that the doctor knew her name. He called her from the edge of dreamland. "What was the last thing you remember?"

Just the darkness, she thought. But the girl concentrated. "I dunno." Her words came weak to her ears, "I was in my room and I woke up; it was dark and I saw something . . ." Rusti narrowed her eyes, now that images flashed across her brain. "It was going straight for Optimus." It was that thing that looked like black paper in the shadows. Now she remembered. Faceless Darkness. "I couldn't stop it. It hissed at me . . . I think." Then she recalled the other bit of illogic the creature committed: "Don't know why it bothered taking the elevator, though. I mean, if it was in the hallway, why didn't it just go through the floors, right?"

"What, Rusti?" Doctor Scott pressed, "What just went through the floors?"

"That thing." Oh Primus, she had no name for it. Some kind of devil, it might have been. Nothing like any other creature she was aware of, not even the stick-figures she'd seen around school. For they were seemingly real creatures. This thing, the Faceless one, had no life signs she recognized. She wasn't even sure if it were honestly alive. "It's not really real, is it? It's just that I'm sick and they said I have mono but it doesn't feel like mononucleosis."

"You don't have mono, sweetheart." The doctor's voice was kindly soft, like Optimus' when he took care of her when she was sick. "I can assure you that much." He ran his finger over her blue nails. "Mono doesn't turn your nails blue."

For some reason, his touch made her react so that she had enough strength to cover her face and cry. "What's wrong with me?" her voice betrayed her feelings of distress, "I feel like something is trying to crawl into my skin, Doctor Scott! I don't know what's wrong! I'm seeing things and hearing things and I'm freaking out!"

He patiently sighed, "Rusti, would you do me a favor?"

She regained emotional control and shrugged.

"I need you to count. But listen carefully. I want you to count one to ten and in between each number, I want you to count to four. For example: One. One two three four. Two. One to three four. Three. One two three four and so on. Can you do that for me?"

He wanted her to do what? Didn't he realize she was having enough trouble just keeping herself on track? But she obliged him anyway, deciding he was the expert, not she. "One . . . One, two, three, four, five, six-" Oops. Start over, "One. One, two, three, four . . . four . . . two, um, one, two . . ." Oh Primus! CONCENTRATE! Two follows one, naturally, but the task was to recount and resume what she started and recount again. But she already lost her place and would have to start over, "One . . ." Oh, come ON, GIRL! Naturally two comes after one! THINK!

She flushed with frustration, unable to do so easy a task.

Doctor Scott held up a hand: "Okay, Rusti, hon. It's okay." Doctor Scott gently squeezed her hands.

The other doctor harumphed from behind Scott. "Here we go, nosing about this bizarre little girl when there are others who need attention. Doctor Scott, it seems one of our patients is phasing out of sync with the rest of us. Would you kindly come and examine him?"

"Bring the patient here, Doctor. I really can't be moving around."

Once again there was something more going on than Rusti could guess. The other doctor departed without another word. Scott glanced from Rusti to Kayla. "I'd like to talk to their Rodimus Prime, Kayla. I think he should know about Rusti's concern for Optimus."

"He's gone off with Voodoo again on another short run. But they'll be back soon, Kyle." Just as Kayla finished her explanation, Doctor Scott-Kyle-clutched his chest. His face contorted in pain then he slumped over unconscious. "Oh gods!" Kayla gracefully gathered Kyle and instantly checked his vitals.

"What's wrong with him?" Rusti noticed the doctor's gloveless right hand glowed bright from the backside. Some kind of white scar pulsated then faded back. Kayla carefully laid Kyle next to another stranger Rusti did not take notice before. The event charged the adrenaline in her own system and the drug's effects wore further down.

Kayla shook her head and Rusti watched with suspicion as the horned lady gently kissed the doctor's brow. She thought it sweet.

After warmly covering the unconscious doctor, Kayla approached Rusti and handed her a bottle of water. Rusty greedily took it, not realizing how thirsty she was until that moment. She drank half of it but did not want to return it. "What is going on?" she finally and firmly asked. "I've been in and out of sleep so much that I don't know what's going on around me. Where are we and who are you people?"

The girl was clearly rational and Kayla wondered how long that rationality would last. If the girl was as sick as Kyle suggested, the rational side of her would not last long. "My friends and the people around us are from Cybertron from a different planet and time from yours. We guess that something has connected our two universes together in what we hope to be a temporary bubble reality. But that's the very best we've been able to come up with."

Rusti stared at her in shock. It sounded horribly far fetched, something out of someone else's nightmare. "Is there a way out of it?"

Kayla solemnly shook her head. "We don't know."

The man who laid beside her groaned and rose to life. He slowly sat up, holding his head as though it were going to roll off his shoulders. "I'm going to sue whatever maniac hit me."

Kayla immediately scanned his life signs. "You'll have to either ask Kyle or Midnight." Her voice came firm and direct. Rusti watched them interact, wondering who these people were. They were nothing like those who languished in hospital attire. Nor were they anything like the other doctor.

A figure shadowed Rusti from the small sphere of light and her gaze shot in its direction. An unfamiliar robot approached. He bore a symbol that was neither Autobot nor Decepticon. He knelt beside Kayla and she paused in her activities as though listening to him. The robot said nothing but she nodded just the same. Rusti assumed they shared some form of telepathy. The robot rose but not before meeting her scrutinizing gaze. The Music was not familiar with the Transformer, either, but recognized it as a Transformer of some kind.

Not a child of the Matrix

There were others like him here. Rusti knew not their names or their faces, but the Music recognized their life force and it sang of their alien natures through the walls.

Shadows flitted from one corner of their little world to the next and Rusti believed she could feel little spikes of pain jumping up her arms and over her back. She felt hot and cold and was ready to settle down again. She turned her attention to Kayla and the other man in armor who now attended Doctor Scott.

"Hey." The man covered the doctor's cold body and greeted him with a smile. "It's about time you came back to us, Kyle."

Kyle weakly gripped Parker's hands and he gasped for breath. "Steve! What's happened to me? I was talking to Rusti and then-"

"Shhhh." Rusti caught 'Steve's' blue eyes glinting in the bright light. The two men silently stared at one another, saying nothing. Again, Rusti assumed a form of telepathy existed between them. Were all these people telepathic? They all seemed to be more than Humanoid, that much even she could pick out. Sleep called her to lay down and Rusti obeyed. The two men talked more but Rusti did not hear them as she unwillingly drifted into darkness.

She came back from sleep when a large warm hand gripped hers and a finger passed over her fingernails.

Kyle's voice came to her ears, but as though from a distance, "Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think it's possible people can exist without certain elements in their life force?"

Pause: "What kind of a question is that?"

"This girl is missing Gamma wave life force and I think it keeps her out of sync with the polarities of the reality from which she came."

Rusti had no idea what he was talking about. Everything was so unreal. Maybe it was all just a dream. But it lasted too long to be a dream of any kind. Optimus' name rolled about in her head. Maybe the drug had come back to haunt her.

"WE'RE BA-AACK!" that was Roddi's voice! Roddi was here, too? "DIDN'T SEE ANY NASTIES, LARGE OR OTHERWISE. . . ." What was he talking about? What else was going on? Rusti wished her body would straighten out! She needed to tell him about Optimus! For that matter, why didn't he know himself? Rusti tried to keep up with Rodimus' chatter as he hurriedly explained something to the people around her. She wished with all her might he'd pick her up and hold her.

"YOU THINK YOU DON'T KNOW?" Roddi's inflections roused the girl enough so that her mind could focus on what was being said.

"Kyle means she's sick." That must be Steve's voice, "and he thinks it's something he's not seen before."

Rusti was not surprised. But it saddened her. She was sick with something they could not cure. Was she going to die after all? Her mind drifted out for a moment. Pain played along her body like a demonic pianist. When the pain faded, she managed to consciously resurface but realized once again how time passed without her acknowledgment. Rusti did not know how much time she lost, but the conversation was still going on:

"YOUNG MAN," again that was Kyle's voice: "I've been alive LONG ENOUGH, and know my profession WELL ENOUGH to know it IS possible!"

"Perhaps it might be possible," the other doctor admitted, "for people who are possessed by alien machines."

Rusti wondered if the other doctor was talking about those in armor, like Kayla. Possessed? Maybe he was just being mean and that they really weren't.

"But!" the same doctor continued, "she's a HUMAN child-alternate reality or not. And I question your judgment and your diagnosis." Rusti heard someone walk away and assumed it was the 'talking doctor.'

"Kyle?" that was someone else's voice-maybe the other lady in armor who caught Rusti a while ago, "What were you two talking about?"

"Zatra Tatlic is a Transformers virus, Shan."

Rusti's eyes shot open. A virus?

"This girl has the organic version of it."

Rusti about choked. A virus? She had a virus? No, wait, he just said it was a Transformers virus-not possible! The other doctor was right! It wasn't possible! And now that her eyes were open, Rusti realized she was awake enough to tell them about Optimus. "Optimus." her mousy little voice scarcely carried over the air. "Please go help him." She choked, thinking how much pain he must be in. "Please help him! He needs somebody to help!"

"Okay." Kyle tried to sooth her with soft tones. "We're going right now. But I want you to promise me you'll get lots of rest until I return."

Tears came to her eyes no matter how much control Rusti tried to hold over herself. She covered her face in shame and embarrassment and was so grateful when the other lady in armor laid a blanket over her shoulders and gently rubbed her back. Even through the exo-suit, Rusti could feel the kind touch. Rusti watched Kyle leave and hoped he'd not be gone too long. She rested against the wall, now able to sit up. Kayla kindly gave her a bowl of soup. She didn't know how they warmed it; didn't want to know, but she was glad it was warm.

A few minutes later Doctor Scott returned, this time with another of the alien robots. This one had no optic sensors she could see, but he had the transforms of a dark blue jet. Kyle greeted her with a grim smile. He started adjusting his exo-suit when the other lady-Shan, Rusti finally learned-approached their little area with an alien. Kyle directed her and the alien some feet from her so that she could not hear their conversation. It was just as well; Rusti did not want to know what they were saying and when she noticed the alien revealed his chest, she realized the matter was private.

"Okay!" It was her Roddi! Rusti held her arms up like a young child hoping for love and attention. He softly knelt by her. "Hello, Lady-Friend. I'm sorry I haven't been here for you of late. Everyone else here needed some extra muscle and me and Mags are the only two available."

"What's happening to us, Roddi? Are we going to die? Is this all for real? What about Optimus? He's been hurt, Roddi! I've been trying to tell everybody he needs help, but they won't listen to me!"

"Shhh. We're going to go right now, Lady-Friend. It's just that we have a lot of other people here who needed help, too. We're going. Right now. And don't worry, we'll be back soon." Rodimus accepted a hot cup of chocolate from Kayla with a quiet thank-you and gave it to his baby bird. Rusti choked up again and could not drink it right away. Roddi hovered over her, lingering like a parent waiting for their young to settle to sleep. She finally calmed enough to take a sip and felt the blessed heat trail all the way down.

Roddi softly wished her good-bye and he, Doctor Scott, the other blue robot and another companion en-arms left the group.

Rusti felt no more at ease. But her body dragged her down, the strength left her as her muscles melted. She slept fitfully. Voices kept troubling her dreams as snatches of conversation rose and fell like a bad tune. She sensed people come and go around her and she resisted the temptation to wake up. She longed for the quiet patter of Oregon rain and the warmth of her own soft bed. Quiet! Quiet! There was a lot of noise and Rusti kept wishing her thoughts and outside sounds to be still.

The Music came to her again, but it strummed in disharmonic tones, reverberating in a terrible inordinate fashion. Finally she drew a deep breath. It was useless to sleep if there was no peace.

She sat up and found the world frozen in time. Every human and alien in the nearby rest area, even those who wore armor were frozen in mid-motion. Somehow the world looked flat, either dark or light. Rusti tried to figure what was wrong with the way things looked; then it dawned on her: there were no shadows cast. The light above their little world shone, and there was plenty of light, but no shadows fell where everyone stood.

Rusti thought about getting up to examine the world but decided against it; she didn't want to know what she could discover. She looked at her own body and found the same illusionary phenomena touching her. No shadows, not even under the blanket.

Her eyes scanned the world again and instead of people, figures of smeared colors stood in their place. Rusti did not know what to make of it. Even Kayla nearby was nothing but a smear of color like paint on a canvas. Rusti dared to touch. It was cold, like metal and strangely solid. She settled back to the little make-shift bed and found all the 'smeared' people had once again shifted, some of them in different directions, others were more contorted shapes than smears. She sat there for a while and concentrated on one shape/person to see if she could witness the change.

Sure enough, the shape shifted, bending over then losing shadow. Time-logged? Maybe? If the 'smears' indicated individual time/space lapse, that would explain why the 'Kayla smear' was solid. Rusti knew little of physics and less about temporal theory but she knew the Music knew and she accepted this idea until someone could prove her wrong.

Little by little the smears reformed and people emerged from the colors. It was as though time forgot all about her.

"So! Having fun?" Everything suddenly snapped back into place. Rusti did not bother to watch Steve down spoonfuls of soup. The thought of food made her queasy. "How long has she been like this, Kayla?"

"For a while. About half an hour." The pretty horned lady's voice came kind and soft to Rusti's ears and the girl wished she could hear the woman sing someday.

"More like ten minutes." Rusti corrected softly.

"Hmm?" Steve leaned over to hear her more clearly.

"It's been ten minutes. Time skipped."

She finally met his eyes when Steve brushed aside her hair and guided her to face him. "Did I hear you right? You just said time skipped?"

"You were frozen, just like everybody else. But I think the time passed differently for everybody. I counted ten minutes."

Steve's attention turned to Kayla. Rusti just stared off into nothing when he spoke: "Didn't you just feel anything skipping, Kayla?"

"Maybe a moment, everything seemed to slow down a little."

"When did it happen?"

"About half an hour ago. Everything seemed to freeze and that was just after you broke up a fight between Gatchel and Shan."

Rusti sat there as the two talked on and the next minute, they were gone elsewhere. Rusti watched the group of people nestled under the direct light. A bit of an argument broke between a couple of ladies which 'Gatchel' quickly dispelled. The baby cried again and one person asked another to hold 'her' while a diaper was being made. Another quick shouting match took place before it too was quelled. The people were edgy and weary. Rusti sensed their fears and wondered why it was taking Roddi and Kyle so long to return.

The darned headache was coming back. Rusti groaned, irritated and annoyed. She surrendered to the conclusion this was not a dream. For each time she felt pain, she did not wake to her bed in her room either at the EDC district, Central Command or even at her folk's house in Central City.

The image to her right confirmed her conclusion: Freak stood there, solid, silent, waiting.

Rusti leapt so fast to her feet, she did not even remember how she managed enough strength to do it. Her eyes lit on fire, "what are you doing here?" she demanded. "Why are you following me here? This isn't real! YOU'RE NOT REAL!"

She inadvertently gained the attention of other survivors, but paid them no attention. "Leave me alone. Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALONE!" And she proceeded to pound her fists onto it. All her anger, fear and frustration slammed against the illusion with every effort she made.

She did not hear Steve dashing up but he grabbed her from behind and she wrestled and screamed in his arms. "LET ME GO! IT WON'T GO AWAY! MAKE IT GO AWAY! GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Something bit her neck as Steve dragged her back to the little bed. Rusti irrationally fought against him, not realizing how amazing it was that his armor was able to withstand her fits.

"LET ME GO!" She shrieked, "I'M GONNA KILL IT!" Steve forced her to look him in the face.

"NOBODY'S GOING TO HARM YOU, RUSTI. Calm down."

"FREAK WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! IT WON'T GO AWAY!"

"Okay! Okay! We'll deal with it!"

She stopped abruptly. Someone actually believed her! Shock took over and Rusti could not help herself. She wept, frustrated and angry. She did not know Steve stared at the so-called illusion that tormented her. Kayla came around the other side and Steve released Rusti into the healer's arms.

Gatchel, the other doctor, rubbed a hand Rusti unintentionally kicked when he 'bit' her with a needle. "That little bitch is a case study in resistance to tranquilizers." He growled. "Captain Parker, I suggest we tie her up."

Rusti heard all that in spite of her crying fit. How cruel! She needed help, not restraint!

Jerk! Jerk! She wanted to give him a piece of her mind, but all she could do was stare daggers at Gatchel. Little by little she felt Kayla's calmness surround her and her nerves started to settle. The drug took longer to affect her, if it did anything for Rusti at all. Sooner or later they would run out of either needles or serum and then they probably would have to resort to binding her hand and foot.

She didn't mean to be so feisty! All she wanted was someone to understand how she felt-that THING haunted her all the time and even now, in this unreality, it was here to torment her further, to push her over the edge. And Rusti feared she might have already fallen off.

Rusti only heard snatches of the conversation between the two doctors. She heard Doctor Gatchel call Steve "Captain Parker" but his voice did not sound friendly. Steve's own words, though distorted by distance, came soft and frightening. Rusti could not hear exactly what he was saying, but she was sure it was a threat.

After another moment or so, Steve returned to Rusti and Kayla and sighed heavily. "Rusti, you gave that image a name. You've seen it before, haven't you?"

"It haunts me." She almost whispered. She feared if she did or said something, Freak would scream and that was the last thing the girl wanted to hear. "It won't leave me alone. It follows me around in school and it screamed and knocked me out. It won't leave me alone." Kayla kindly wiped the tears as they fell from Rusti's eyes. She was too tired and weak to do anything for herself at the moment. "But I don't know how you're seeing it. Most people can't."

"Um, you could say I have an interesting gift because I'm Interfaced with someone special." Steve took her hand in his and noticed her blue-tipped fingers. "I've been to places, Rusti, where that image is a natural phenomenon. You're not going crazy. You're not just seeing things. The people on the planet Nek'zhabry call it an al-d'shoonee. It's the solidified manifestation of a psychic projection; usually from a damaged psyche. But usually only extremely powerful minds can create these things."

Rusti could not breathe. Her eyes remained glued to his figure as though her whole being had turned to stone. She managed to draw enough breath to speak, though to her, it came out small; "A psychic projection? Someone is projecting that thing? It belongs to somebody?"

"That's right." Steve's own voice sounded of encouragement.

She started to breath heavily again. Suddenly a million questions crowded her mind but she could only speak a few: "Then why is it screaming at me? Why am I the only one that can really see it? Why did it hit Cody's car? Who's it from?" The answer shot through her head. It had been there all along. Optimus. She could only lip the name. "Optimus." Her voice came as a whisper then she was able to talk a bit more loudly: "It's from Optimus. But why does it scream at me?" distress returned to her voice: "Why? What did I do?"

Steve covered her hand between his own, "maybe he's trying to get help."

Realization came to her bright as a newly-lit match. Through hundreds and thousands of years of accumulated events Optimus suffered war and famine and persecution from every side and it all came to this. It resulted in the formation of a psychic projection for which he was neither conscious of, nor could control. A part of him was violently crying out. But his own people did not hear. They went about their daily lives, living heedless under the shadow of their weary leader. Sometimes they'd crucify his character on the alter of personal conceit. They'd slander him behind closed doors because most of the Autobots knew little about their own leader; how much he worked for them, what he did to keep their society together. Rusti had seen it throughout her life. Had Roddi not been there to soften the blows . . . She remembered the dare she took one Christmas and wondered what else the general Autobot population had to say about their leaders.

What the hell did they want, anyway? Optimus already gave them his life. He bled for them, surrendered his privacy, his time; all those little things the other Autobots took for granted. He had nothing left for himself. There were moments Rusti believed the Autobot leader just ran on automatic; devoid of emotion, detaching himself even from her.

Doctor Gatchel erupted in argument with Shan, breaking the moment of revelation. Rusti sometimes wondered how in moments like this the rest of the universe could not share her discovery and just remain respectfully quiet.

Steve excused himself from her to settle the problem. The girl watched in silence. The adults, she realized, were just as confused and frightened about their surroundings as she. Gatchel shouted even more loudly, his voice as demanding as the exaggerated movements his body made. Why did he seem so mad all the time? Why did he mock Steve and Kyle and their robot friends? Who were these people?

As Rusti watched, Steve lost his temper and punched Gatchel so hard, it sent the loud-mouthed doctor several yards into the rest area over the carpet. Gatchel laid quiet for the moment. Maybe that's what he needed. Or maybe Gatchel had given up and just wanted to be knocked unconscious so as not to bother with the distress anymore. Rusti knew how that felt.

Someone from the rest area screamed and the whole room watched in silent shock as Doctor Gatchel's body reversed like a movie going backwards. He lifted from the floor to the air, flying in exactly the same motion as Steve sent him. Gatchel landed back to his original place in front of Captain Parker and resumed speaking. But Rusti was too far away to hear what the doctor had to say; she did not know that Gatchel even spoke the same words as before, but all came out backwards.

Rusti about swallowed her tongue as she continued to watch the strange and frightening event. The doctor froze and without Steve even touching him, Gatchel 'oofed' and flew through the air again, landing in the same place and way that he did a few minutes ago. All eyes turned to him, watching to see if the phenomena would repeat itself. But it did not. Gatchel sat up and acted as though nothing occurred. "What!" his voice carried across the room. Gatchel had no idea what happened to him.

No one wanted to talk about the event. Rusti strained her ears to eavesdrop, but heard nothing. Most people now lay down to sleep off the shock. The girl noticed no more water or food was being passed around and she assumed there was no more, which might have caused the fight between Steve and the doctor. Rusty herself had half a bottle of water left, but decided to preserve it for a later time. There was no telling how much longer they were going to be here.

Rusti finally slept for an unaccounted amount of time. She stirred from slumber when heavy footfalls passed by their little place just outside the circle of people. She opened her eyes and watched as Rodimus passed her, bearing something large and heavy in his arms.

"You-ah-you guys were gone for quite some time, Kyle." Steve whispered, not knowing Rusti was already awake.

"I know." Doctor Scott's voice came in hushed tones: "We couldn't decide whether it would be safe to bring Prime down here or not. The stairs are disintegrating. This is it. We can't go anywhere else, now."

Rusti heard Steve move and he said something else, but she paid it no mind. It had to be Optimus Roddi carried. The figure was wrapped end to end in a large blanket or covering of sorts. She stared, hoping she was right.

"Is she really asleep, or is she faking it?" Doctor Scott's voice carried over a little loudly.

"I'm faking it." she replied a bit annoyed.

Steve sighed. "Gatchel gave her a tranq, but it didn't work very well."

Rusti frowned. That's what 'bit' her earlier. The other doctor shot her, but did little good than to encourage her to rest a while.

"Why did he give her that?" Kyle's voice carried a little more strongly, "Kayla's already given her-"

"She saw something that terrified her. I've not seen something like that in a very long time."

"What?"

"An al-d'shoonee."

"No way."

Steve paused before confirming another of Rusti's suspicions: "Oh, and we're out of water."

No way up, no way down. Rusti realized they were all stuck here in this little world, though she suspected they were here because of something else . . . the Music spoke of monsters on the walls and monsters in the great belly of the world, but that was all she envisioned. Steve spoke with a little lighter a voice: So! What did you guys bring down?"

"Optimus Prime."

That was all Rusti needed. She gathered her strength, determined to be with the two people she loved most. She took to her feet and would have run had she the energy to do so.

Rodimus laid Optimus in a corner near the group and the light. He searched Optimus' optics for a sign of consciousness. But to his dismay, found nothing. Rodimus turned to greet his lady-friend finding Rusti looking as badly as he felt.

_It's okay, Roddi._ she sent, _You don't have to say anything._ Rusti's little voice in his head comforted him, but it also made him grieve that she would be there to suffer right alongside them. Rodimus wanted to hold her close, to wrap his arms around her. But even that bit of comfort was forbidden him.

_I'm sorry, Lady Friend._ he mournfully answered, _I just don't have anything to offer right at the moment. _

she sent him a forced smile but said nothing else. Doctor Scott approached, scanner in hand and waved his instrument briefly at Optimus Prime.

"That's . . . what I thought." his voice came soft. "But that's odd."

"What's odd?" Rodimus snapped.

"Prime's the one with the Zatra Tatlic virus."

Rodimus demanded an explanation while Rusti came closer to Optimus and laid her hand on his helm. He felt colder than he should. She wondered if there was anything anybody could do for him. Certainly not here. And if they were trapped in this bubble universe, what would happen to them all? Would the humans start to turn to cannibalism? That disturbing thought made her shudder and she turned her thoughts back to Doctor Scott.

". . . an unknown factor as to how he got it. Thirdly, Rusti's the one that has all the symptoms." Kyle clicked his scanner off and stared at Rodimus. "What is going on here?"

"What?"

"I think you know what I mean. The girl. Optimus Prime. Is there a connection you haven't told me about? Are they Interfaced?"

Again the girl thought she was bleeding from the chest and Rusti turned from everyone as Optimus softly moaned. She covered her face as her eyes watered with tears. Rusti retreated to the wall behind the Autobot leader as Kayla approached her with a blanket.

Kyle came to her, but did not touch the girl. "It'll be alright, Sweetheart. We'll figure something out." It was as close to a promise as he could come. But his words did not hold weight. They were trapped in a hopeless situation.

"It's not that." Rusti managed to answer amid her sobs. "It's something else." She slid to the floor and rested her head against Kayla's shoulder.

Kyle knelt and offered Rusti a tissue. "What's that?"

She kept her eyes from his and felt the Music touch her skin. It tingled and warmed her. The Music comforted her because it was everywhere and sometimes she could feel it more than others. Rusti's back straightened on its own. Her chin lifted, but she still could not look directly at Doctor Scott. "Have you ever heard a scream, engulfed in fire and cold?" That really was not her voice. What was she saying? "You can't really hear it. Not really. But I have. It frightens me. I hear it now and again. It comes from the past and maybe can be heard in some distant tomorrow. Sometimes I think it would make me burst from the inside. Other times all I feel is terrible sadness." Rusti heard herself talk but as though from a distance. She hoped she did not say something stupid.

She finally stared at Doctor Scott and wondered why he gave her a strange uneasy look. He glanced from her to Kayla then took to his feet when Ultra Magnus and another alien robot approached. Steve joined them some yards away and a moment later, Rusti realized for the first time that there were two Rodimus Primes. Her eyes shot wide. These people were from another dimension entirely-wait, didn't someone explain that to her before? Where were the rest of the people? Why weren't there more? Something about the bubble universe and how her 'home reality' and theirs collided and reformed . . . was this their new home, now?

Kyle left the ladies for the small group. Rusti watched them interact for several long moments, wishing she could hear what they were saying. It must have been very important because more than once, one or all of them were surprised about something.

Little by little Rusti drifted to sleep. Images and voices carried through the darkness in that bit of time she was able to rest. But how she wished her mind would be silent! Once again she longed for her own bed and her music. She wished it were Sunday and either raining outside or bright and sunny. Someone's raised voice roused her from the shallow sleep and the girl lifted her head.

A flash of light shot across the room, disrupting conversations and the wall along the other side of the room flickered. All survivors turned in silent astonishment as a 'movie' sparked to life. The colors and events flooded the room with light brighter than the small sphere.

Rusti watched in horror as the wall displayed a creature standing like a towering abomination. Haphazardly sewn robotic body shells connected four arms and two heads. And while most of the 'wall movies' remained silent, this one came with sound and the creature laughed. Rusti cringed and wanted to hide. The laughter came doubled with screams of agony.

It walked on four legs, a centaur-like monster, with a conglomeration of metal and rock and so that it looked like moving, rotting junk. It treaded muddied ground amid a hailstorm, tromping through a village of small humanoids. It buried them alive or burned them with spitting flame from its two heads.

And from the midst of clouds and rain, a valiant, strong robot jumped, vibro-sword in hand and it hacked at the abomination.

But the thing, with all its four arms, wrapped about the robot devoured it like a praying mantis would a fly-head first.

Rusti covered her eyes and softly whimpered.

"What is going on here?" It was Roddi's voice, but not her Roddi.

"I don't know." That was Roddi. Rusti wished with all her might someone would turn the horrible images off!

Gatchel's voice shot through the room for all to hear: "That wall just played a movie for us and you don't know what's going on?"

Roddi answered with a solemn voice. "There have been a lot of things happening we can't explain."

"Tyr-ani-cussss," Optimus replied with great effort. He drew a tiresome breath. "It was . . . supposed to be the first . . . De . . .cep-ti-con multi . . . changer. 'Bout thir-ty-eight. . . mil-lion years 'go," Prime weakly added. ". . . B'fore the 'ssassin-ation of . . . Maximus Prime. It's . . . another Matrix memory . . . Roddi. Plays over and over in my mind . . . it won't . . . s-stop."

Rusti lowered her hands from her eyes and relief calmed her when she saw the 'movie' had stopped. Kyle turned to Roddi, puzzled. "The Matrix?" he repeated. "Why? How so? How long has this been going on?"

Rodimus shrugged, "in the last few weeks."

"Really? And how long has Optimus Prime been this ill?"

"Months."

"Years." Rusti suddenly corrected. She flushed as everyone's eyes shot at her. Her voice turned mousy, "Optimus has been sick for years. He's just never told anybody."

Kyle glanced at Steve then he scrutinized Roddi. "You say that . . . movie we just saw is a manifestation of the Matrix? And that this has been going on for a long time? Do you think it has something to do with our present situation?"

"No." Rodimus answer quietly. "I'm sure the Matrix is not responsible for this."

"Kyle, what about Midnight?" Steve asked. Rusti had no idea what or who he was talking about, "Do you think whatever the Matrix is doing is affecting Mid?"

Kyle did not take his eyes off Rodimus. Rusti read suspicion in the doctor's expression. "I think it's very possible. I think the Matrix is affecting everyone in some way. Rodimus, you were quoting poetry earlier. Can you tell me about that?"

Roddi laughed uneasily. "Poetry, Doctor Scott? You must be joking. I'm not a poet."

Doctor Scott did not seem convinced. Ultra Magnus finally spoke and for the first time, Rusti noticed how he too seemed to suspect something. "You were talking earlier about Bo Peep and you were staring at him for a long moment, Rodimus. Are you sure nothing is wrong?"

Rusti did not see Roddi's expression hardened. "Why would I behave like that? Things have been tough. You all know that. AND WHY IS EVERYONE STARING AT ME? Rusti did not need to see that Rodimus' optics turned dark. She could tell there was something wrong just by the pitch in his voice.

Kyle glanced at the dark blue robot whom Rusti assumed was his partner. The music drummed in her veins a tempo of which she was unfamiliar. It droned in the walls and shadows of their little world. It whispered of things not seen, but things that existed. Rusti started to realize that just because something was unseen, did not mean it did not exist; like life force or Breath. There were living molecules and 'living DNA' called viruses. There was Faceless Darkness.

Kyle spoke again, bringing Rusti back to the present moment. "My diagnosis," Kyle declared, "is insanity, Rodimus Prime. You and Optimus both are infected with a virus that quite possibly has infected the Matrix. That's why Midnight is so sick; not because of the intensity of gamma wave life force, but because the Matrix is tainted."

Rusti turned cold. If the Matrix itself was infected, how could It, the Autobot's very life-source, be purified? And if the infection tainted the Matrix, how badly would Optimus and Rodimus become? Wait a minute: did Doctor Scott say 'insanity?'

"Devouring it is the antithesessssss . . . sis . . . of being a god." Rodimus laid on his thorax, facing away from Rusti, staring hard into Doctor Scott's eyes.

"And I find it kind of funny,

I find it kind of sad,

The Dreams in Which I'm dying

are the Best I've ever had."

Rusti closed her eyes and silently wept again. What was going to happen to Optimus and Roddi? What would happen to the Autobots entirely?

She did not see Rodimus lunge for Kyle like a shark snapping its mouth for food. Nor did she see Kyle suddenly disappear then reappear closer to she and Kayla. "I don't know how much time you have," he said gravely.

Ultra Magnus waited for more information but when nothing more was offered, he tried to prompt the doctor to saying something else: "Until what?"

Scott shrugged. "Until . . . until. Until, um, both the Primes are so steeped in insanity that . . . you may have to assassinate them. Until . . . maybe the Matrix self-destructs. I really haven't seen anything like this before-"

"Self destructs!" All eyes turned to Roddi who now seemed more like himself. "The Matrix! Are you kidding? Are you reading that thing right! You can't be serious!"

"I'm very serious." Kyle's solemn voice registered more clearly than any shout Rusti could have heard. "And I'm assuming sooner or later you'll end up like Optimus Prime is right now."

Rusti started to panic and from panic, she started hyperventilating. "No, no, no!" She could not control her trembling as the Music, which now too realized what that meant, vibrated strongly in the walls and the air.

Kyle and Kayla laid Rusti on the floor. She wept and struggled out from under their hands and they tried to give her a breathing apparatus, but she would not hear their words, their commands, their demands.

Sssshhhhhhhhhh.

And all the darkness swallowed her and all the girl could do was lay lifelessly on the cold floor. She couldn't even cry anymore; her tears came in shudders. Something tore into her and ripped out a piece. It devoured her living tissue like a spider nibbling on a fly. Then vaguely she felt the warmth of another body, arms that supported her back, a shoulder on which her head rested; a heart that beat comfortingly against her chest. She shuddered, weak and trembling. The night terror lingered in her mind, but at least someone held her.

Somebody called her 'Baby bird' and that felt good. She shuddered again, allowing someone to touch her. The touch was kind, brushing her hair, smoothing her back. Her heart gradually slowed, her nerves slowly settled. She was thirsty and longed for the soothing patter of soft rain.

Baby bird sleep tight

let your hopes take flight

your name the stars softly call

Baby bird, you'll never fall

That was part of a lullaby, wasn't it? Didn't Roddi sing that more than a few times?

Kyle gazed up and found Rodimus gently attending the girl, softly singing. It was the first time Kyle recalled ever hearing Rodimus Prime sing to anybody. Kyle checked Rusti and found her fast asleep. He gave the Autobot leader a grim smile. "You'd make a good mother, Rodimus." he said quietly.

Roddi gave him a wry smile but did not answer.

The air tingled and pricked her skin with icy fingernails. Rusti moaned in distressful sleep, once again wishing she were home in bed, sleeping with her worn-out fluffy duffy. Slight jabs of pain thrombed against her chest and the girl rolled on her back. She expected the headache to return. Then something pinched her wrist and she weakly whined, unable to fight it. Then it was over. Slowly Rusti opened her eyes, finding Kyle sitting beside her, wrapping a cloth about her wrist.

"I-i-i-iTTT sssshhhhhhoullld helllllllpp, Rrrrusssstiiiiii."

Now she was awake and wrinkled her brows in puzzlement. Something warm coursed through her arm and leaked across her chest. It traveled over her body like a soft warm fire. She could even feel her fingers radiate with warmth. Rusti sat up as she watched Doctor Scott replace a hypo and talk in very slow motion. She scanned the room and found everyone, everything slowed to a near-frozen state. Then she realized every shadow cast from the antigrav light above kept moving at a regular pace. Then the shadows stopped moving altogether. Then they moved at an amazing rate. The shadows suddenly froze again then started moving backward.

Rusti stood and searched for an explanation.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry."

She turned and found Doctor Scott resumed in regular time/space motion. He placed the hypo back in a pocket in his suit and smiled at her. She returned the smile, less certain than he, and sat back down. Her eyes fell on her left wrist, now wrapped with a clean cloth. She wordlessly searched his eyes for explanation.

"Serum for the Tatlic virus. I'm sure it'll help."

"You had a cure all along? How do you know so much about it? And why am I affected?"

"No, I've not had it all along. I had to filter impurities and it took a while. I figured now was a good time to give it to you, while things are still quiet."

She looked puzzled and scrutinized him. "How do you know so much about it when no one from my reality does?"

Doctor Scott hesitated a long moment, gazing at her as though weighing a decision. "I . . . 've had Tatlic, Rusti."

She flushed, realizing that was a personal question.

"As for how you contacted it and its behavior . . ." here Scott glanced at Prime then back at her. "Well, it seems you have a connection somehow. Could be a form of Interface I've not seen before, could be something else. I can't really say because I don't have the time to perform the necessary tests. Nor can I produce the electro-chemicals needed to help Optimus Prime. I just don't have the equipment."

Rusti's heart sank for Optimus. It seemed nobody could help him. As for her, she was okay with Scott's explanation. As long as the serum stopped the pain and the hallucinations, that was good enough for her. "Thank you."

Someone screamed and all eyes shot in the general direction. Rusti swallowed air and backed toward Optimus. At the front of the room, near the blocked entrance/exit, floated a Quintesson. At first its form was naught but a transparent figure, something like a ghost. Its tentacles snaked back and forth, its Face of Greed scanned the room back and forth. It looked real. "ALL FORCES ARE MOMENTARILY STATIONARY. WE CAN BEGIN THE FIRST PHASE OF OUR PROJECT."

The room faded from a world of dark cold metal to a small dirty asteroid, lit by a nearby planetary mass about the size of Saturn. Its rings sat in a diagonal direction, but the planet itself did not rotate. It came complimented by three moons all in late eclipse, all of irregular shape and smooth composition. More than one Quintesson appeared around the survivors. Those most fearful tried to hide behind boulders that weren't really there. Other survivors huddled together in terror.

A brain-shattering maelstrom shot through the atmosphere, causing everyone to cower from the terrible explosion. Light flooded the room as if Heaven opened all its gates and shed every square inch of its glory upon one speck of the universe. And a heartbeat throbbed, counting the seconds . .. Two. Three. Four. Five . . . Ten . . . Twenty.

At first nothing. Then another flash of light, distant, but no less brilliant, flared and died. Dead silence followed and oh, how loud that silence was!

No, thought Rusti, this was not real. None of this was real at all. They were still in the room. It was still deathly dark outside the anti-grav light. What they were seeing and experiencing was a Matrix memory. "It's not real!" she cried out, but her voice was swallowed by the ensuing thunderclap as though God Himself had spoken. The sound rattled bones and three people bled from their ears. Four fainted and even Rusti fell, weakened by the echoes of Quintesson-wrought destruction.

Then the blast. Was it like an atomic bomb? Or maybe a hydrogen bomb? Was it like fire from Heaven? Was it more like the murder of a super creature? Yes, it had to have been like the death of a super creature, for even Unicron's death left marks throughout the galaxy. Rusti thought her skin was being ripped from her body. Her breath was stolen from her and she could see and feel nothing for what felt like hours. It came and came and kept coming and would not let up, like an eternal storm of fire.

Then, a voice. No, several voices. Optimus' voice came first: "IF YOU DO THIS, IF YOU ENSLAVE THE CREATURE, WE WILL ALL PAY FOR IT."

But somehow Rusti knew the Quints could not enslave the planet-sized creature. And she knew it was about to give birth. But the Quints discovered they could not tame it or enslave it. So they chose to destroy it. Optimus tried to stop them but could not; the Autobot Council of Elders felt it bad policy to intervene with Quintesson affairs when the Quints were not attempting to retake Cybertron. The Quints were cowards. They had to be to do things like prey on the weak and helpless.

And just as Optimus warned, rest of the cosmos paid for their arrogance. The death of the planet-creature caused Cybertron to lose its orbit. The shockwave obliterated other planets in the same solar system and the result extended to such galactic proportions that it wiped out all life on the planets of Mars and Venus. Earth was not in the same alignment, thereby, it remained unaffected.

The devastation destroyed Alpha Centauri. Proxima Centauri turned inward, shrank and collapsed into a Brown Dwarf star.

But a twinkling of hope sparked when the Quints opened the Time window in 2007. One moment of their arrogance canceled another moment of arrogance and some of the effects reversed permanently. Alpha Centauri was restored.

The Matrix remembered it all and it grieved for the loss of life, for the loss of balance.

The light died leaving the room once again bathed by the anti-grav light. All occupants; Human, Alien and Transformer alike had no words to convey the terrible shock they suffered. They felt the death of billions of lives. They took into their bodies the brunt of the impact. They heard the sounds and felt the sorrow. Their bodies and minds fell languid with emotional and mental exhaustion and all they could do was sit or lie in deathly-still silence.

Rusti sat with her back against the coverlet protecting Optimus. Her ears rang from the terrible sounds. Her skin and muscles ached as though she had been battered and bruised with a baton. What was that? It had to be more than a mere memory. They all lived it for real; a horrific personal experience. They felt the destruction and learned the history first hand. But how was all that possible? No answer. No answer came to her at all. Spellbinder and Ultra Magnus rose first and began checking all those who lay still, stricken into shock. A few people murmured in pain. Then the baby started crying and her father tried to comfort her, but he too wept.

Rusti watched Kayla sadly cover the face of a survivor who died of shock. It was not real, though! Rusti kept telling herself over and over, the experience wasn't real. There were no Quints here! But something caused the Matrix memory to solidify to the point of reality.

The old lady near Doctor Gatchel wept loudly. They were all trapped in hell and the words tumbled from her lips between sobs.

Roddi's form shadowed Rusti from the anti-grav light and inwardly she shuddered. He smiled, but it failed to lift her spirits. "Are you alright, Lady Friend?"

She nestled close to Optimus, taking a little comfort from the blanket covering his form. "I guess." she whispered. She did not want to say anything about her own despair. There were enough people in the room who voiced her feelings.

Minutes stretched into long hours. The baby settled, but Rusti could still hear her whimper and imagined her father wept in fear of losing his daughter.

No one knew what to do. Wait. Waste away and wait.

Rusti realized she had drifted to sleep. She did not know how long but it was good to actually sleep a little. She felt guilty hugging so closely to Optimus, nestling among the blankets when others had nothing to cling to. But no one paid her any mind.

A few minutes later, Rusti swore she saw the face of a robot pressing through the metal wall from the other side of the room. She was still in shock and most likely it was her imagination.

Black spots pricked the air as though time/space were becoming so insubstantial, the air itself was tearing.

Then a commotion started from the same place the Quint appeared a while ago. Magnus shouted at Dagger and Voodoo-the other robots-and they searched for scrap metal to seal a hole they had not seen before. Rusti was too tired to ask what was going on. The next minute, she did not have to.

The walls around them began to twist and the faces of demons-or xenomorphs, as the others called them, pressed outward. At first it looked more like a play of light and shadow. But that was when Rusti realized once again no one was casting shadows. The floor rose right next to her and she took to her feet, amazed that she could move so fast in spite of her weariness. It wasn't a trick after all. It seemed the floor had become so flimsy that the creatures from downstairs were trying to tear their way in. But that wasn't the case either. The shapes kept rising and sinking into the floor until one shape remained and detached itself from the floor. It remained still for several minutes before it changed color. The shape redefined itself and a xenomorph appeared. Its rib cage expanded and reduced as though the thing were breathing.

"They're coming right out of the goddamned floor!" One of the alien robots declared. He shot one but another took its place and another and another, rising like bubbles in a boiling sauce pan. One fully-formed morph dashed amid the group and slashed down two people, devouring one on the spot. Another morph, a far larger one, charged Magnus, smashing two other survivors in its wake. Shan fired at a two-headed morph as it wriggled its way from the wall. A terrible roar sounded through the room and suddenly-


	4. Mood Swings

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 4

MOOD SWINGS

"It's a nightmare. It has to be a nightmare!"  
"But whose, yours or mine?"  
-The Twighlight Zone: "Five Characters in Search of an Exit"

-Her body jerked when light from every direction shocked her senses so that Rusti almost screamed in terror. She hid her eyes as she gasped and backed away, hoping to find a steadfast wall.

Conversations erupted about her as she realized there was no wall. But Optimus yet lay next to her wrapped in sheets. Rusti lowered her hands and batted her eyes against the glaring light. She was outside in the autumn air. Dawn yawned over the Cascade Mountains chasing the night dew into steam and drying the world of its cold. The girl felt nothing, not even the low-forties temperature. Around her people jerked to life. Cries of surprise and sudden realization that something unnatural happened caused the masses to talk all at once, everyone asking their neighbor for information.

Voices around her commanded and shouted over one another once people-Autobots and EDC official alike-realized the building that was once Central Command now stood in ruins as though gutted by a silent bomb. The flashing lights of an ambulance splashed Rusti's form with red then blue. Someone fitted a blanket about her shoulders, expecting an answer to all his questions. But the girl only stared, dazed. The rescue worker kept trying to attain her attention. He snapped fingers in her face. He shouted at her and dared to shake her once.

Impatience drove him away and he said something to a female coworker. She glanced at Rusti, nodded and produced a needle.

Rusti watched the first rescue worker depart before slowly sinking to her knees. Her eyes focused on nothing. What darkness did she just survive? Where were the monsters? Where were the alien robots? Maintenance droids mopped blood and removed debris from the lobby. Or rather, what was left of it.

She finally examined the world around her. The lobby stood with one and a half walls missing. Well, not the ground floor, but from what Rusti could tell, the whole eastern and southern walls of the entire Central Command Center complex were missing. Humans and Autobots milled about asking how it was they missed ten minutes out of their lives.

Emergency medical crews arrived and while one of First Aid's assistants tended to Magnus' wound, another checked on Rodimus while a crew of four gently lifted Optimus Prime onto an anti-grav stretcher and bore him away.

Two EDC officers came to the girl and started asking questions. One punched buttons and scribbled on a digipad while the other kept yammering on about the damage done to Central Command and what had taken place and demanded to know . . . Primus, he wanted to know so much at once and NATURALLY Rusti knew. But shock fought against her will and won. She did not care to volunteer any information right now.

Sometime later she found herself snugly in bed in Medical. The door opened quietly and Kup peeked in, blue eyes bright in the dim light. Rusti's eyes zoomed from him to Arcee who sat on the floor nearby.

Kup glanced at the girl then the femme. "I'm just checkin' everyone for Magnus. Both Optimus and Rodimus are down for a while and he wanted to know how Rusti's doin'."

"Fine." Daniel/Arcee answered coldly.

Rusti loudly grunted, attaining both their attention.

Kup lightened and faced the girl, hand units on hip plates. "Someone's awake."

"Optimus." Rusti whispered. "How is he?"

"Never you mind, young lady." Daniel/Arcee answered sternly.

"I wasn't TALKING to you, DANIEL!" Rusti uncharacteristically snapped and sat straight up. Her eyes pierced the Headmaster.

Arcee's expression downed in sudden surprise. Kup backed toward the doorway. "That's alright," he nearly whispered. "I was just checkin'." And he quickly left. The air grew thick with tension until Rusti flopped back down. She threw up the covers, turned her back on Daniel/Arcee and let the blankets cover her from him.

Arcee's form dared to crawl three paces toward the bed. The femme's body reflected what the female side felt, but the voice, when spoken, came edged with Witwicky's sharp tones: "your mother is worried about you."

Rusti heard Arcee's voice. But she knew it was not the femme. Too many years trained her to tell the difference in verbal inflections. Arcee would on occasion use Roddi's pet-name or sugar-coat her address with 'darling', something Rusti treasured. All Rusti had to offer her estranged father was a silent treatment. After several empty moments, Daniel/Arcee departed and the girl wondered if she would live to regret treating her father in such a manner. He was, after all, her father. But, she digressed, blood does not necessarily constitute lovey-dovey kindness between family members.

Magnus sifted through digipads and mounds of unread information at Optimus' desk. His office was one of six rooms left untouched by the time fracture. Paratron workers, EDC and several construction companies from Central City worked ceaselessly to repair Central Command as quickly as possible. Ambient kept communications moving smoothly while Blaster recovered from the battles on Pluto. Fort Max, for the most part, was unmarked by the strange event. But reports of voices and moving images on walls poured in at a steady rate.

For the moment, the Major-General sat at the desk and did nothing. What all did they just live through? That is, yes, he knew what it was; a time fracture; a bubble reality, as Captain Parker from the Alternate Universe said. But . . . but it still befuddled him. And what really frightened Magnus more so was the diagnosis performed by Doctor Kyle Scott; that the Matrix was infected with a virus. Magnus passed the information to First Aid just an hour ago. The Protectobot doctor did not know what to say; Magnus never saw anything frighten or shock the level-headed Autobot. But that bit of news shook First Aid into silence so that he had to sit down and stare into nothing.

And that was when Aid had to declare something Magnus did not want to hear: "There's nothing I can do about that."

Magnus stared at a digipad without reading it. He wondered if Rusti was right; that Optimus had been sick for years. Why didn't he say anything to anybody? Magnus thought it over carefully and recalled Optimus tried to warn him on several occasions. One such occasion happened when both he and Prime were attacked by the Doppelgangers. He had that dream and to this day, Magnus swore it was no dream.

The Major-General's attention drifted to the digipad and words like "Zenith" and "shipment" caught his optic sensors. Magnus glanced through it and realized it was a delayed shipment of supplies and equipment heading for Mars. They were waiting for authorization. It should have gone through three weeks ago. Magnus went ahead and gave approval and picked up another pad. It was a request for services of an air traffic controller in Saudi Arabia while they transported dangerous criminals to and from a prison block. It too was three weeks late. Magnus authorized the request and assigned Blades to the location. There were several more such pads lying around the desk. While he was the only other head officer available to authorize assignments in Fort Max, Magnus could easily send the accounting stuff to Jazz. That would lighten his load. At least Magnus' own data entry was up-to-date enough for him to catch up on Optimus'. It would take him at least a week to clear through the mess piled high on the Autobot leader's desk. That did not include Roddi's stuff. Strike Back was not going to like the workload Magnus was about to give him.

There was one more thing for the City Commander to think about: the battle on Pluto. They barely won-barely. Neither Optimus nor Rodimus read reports and so neither had any idea how many injured lay in the make-shift medbay on Pluto. Neither were aware of the deaths of six Autobots.

The desk moved under Magnus' arms. He instinctively jumped out of the chair and back toward the window. It was unlike Magnus to react so, but considering what he had gone through, he expected anything from a visit by a demonic Santa Claus to an attack from a resurrected Megatron.

The surface of the desk definitely moved. A face pressed itself against the metal top. Magnus attacked the desk, smashing into the fine surface. The face sank in then pressed its way back up through the floor and raced to the door. Magnus leapt effortlessly over and slammed a fist alongside the face.

"WHO ARE YOU!" he demanded.

The face pressed out, far too close to the Commander's face. But Magnus did not flinch. It said something, but no sound came from its moving lip components. Magnus' optics dimmed, determined to keep his nerve. Then the face sank away. Magnus stared at the wall for a long moment. Then he decided that virus or not, he was going to keep order in Fort Max. He opened his comline, "Strike Back, I want you to meet me in conference room 23-C in half an hour."

It was not a request.

The Gingerbread Man waved him to follow. Chase me away. Come on! Run, run as fast as you can, Big Boy!

Optimus was not falling for it. He crossed his arms and frowned. The landscape below was what the region looked like before Fort Max settled there. See? That was where Mt. Saint Hillary once stood before Trypticon destroyed it and the Ark. See? There's the ancient road they had to pave to get in and out of the mountains. That was long before the river was redirected. When Megatron brought Cybertron to Earth back in late 1985, the gravitronic forces ripped a lot of land formations. Mountains rose in some places, leveled in others. Deserts like Death Valley were flooded with water and became searing hot swamplands. The Mississippi shifted its course and hundreds of people lost their homes and lives. Whole townscapes vanished. But here, the lakeshore next to Central City opened and a new river gushed forth, bleeding from the city down the Cascade Mountains. It was a new-found blessing in many ways. It was over that river Optimus planned Metroplex, the first Autobot city on Earth. Evil always leaves scars and things are never the same once touched by its darkness. But sometimes, just sometimes, things turn for the better. It's those little details that often kept the Autobot leader moving. Something good can sometimes be found in the evils of war and death.

The Gingerbread Man appeared again, laughing and running down the valley slopes. Optimus felt better. It would do no harm to chase after all. And the Autobot leapt from his perch atop Suicide Cliff and landed with a great thud. He pushed hard into the ground, dashing over the grasses with little effort. What would he do when he catches the Gingerbread Man? Maybe it wasn't the end that mattered, but the chase. The thrill of the moment, as it were. Yes! That was it! And he transformed, feeling stronger than he had in years, and rammed after the laughing lunatic.

Run, run! Run, run!

And he laughed in Optimus' audios.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 5

Rusti was never happier to be back in her own room in the EDC complex. Dr. Hanson was amazed, but satisfied over the girl's quick recovery. She mused silently over Rusti's story regarding Doctor Scott's diagnosis of her illness and the shot he gave her before the time fracture faded, or rather, disappeared. Whatever the end result, Rusti felt better than she had in weeks. In fact, she was eager to get back to school and tell Cody everything that happened.

Cody listened patiently while they each sipped a vanilla shake-his treat. He doodled on her binder, drawing ridiculous cartoons but unlike most boys his age, Cody was not apt to draw obscene things to impress her. In too many ways, Rusti thought him as perfect a gentleman as Optimus Prime. She eyed the heart he drew and colored and her eyes slowly lifted toward his. He was such a sweety.

"You know, Rus, I'm really worried about you. What if the virus is affecting you, too? I mean, look at the things you've been seeing or hearing when no one else is around."

Her face turned to puzzlement and she paused before taking another sip of her shake. "I don't think it would affect me, Cody. I mean, I'm not a Prime, for one. I was sick, but not with the virus."

"True. But you just said you had all the symptoms of a disease Optimus Prime has." Cody suddenly slapped his hand over his mouth and glanced about them. The information did not need to leak beyond the two of them. But the cafeteria was dotted only by a few 'geeks' who poured over their notes or books, preparing for tests. Study hall was the best time and place for private conversation. "Look, Rusti, I know you keep saying you are just Human, a Witwicky. But there's so much more to you-there has to be a connection somewhere-"

"Why?" Rusti narrowed her eyes at him. The thought kinda frightened her. "Yes, my family has been heavily involved with the Autobots since my grandfather-"

"But your grandfather didn't manipulate computers with his mind, Rus. Your grandfather didn't share telepathy-"

"Maybe I'm a freak of nature." Rusti abruptly interrupted.

Cody smirked at her one minute, then his face fell the next. Then his expression lighted and he smiled. "I wouldn't say 'freak', Rus. The Quintessons are freaks." He stared at her eyes, "you're just beautiful."

Rusti nearly laughed, but realized he meant what he said and a warm feeling surrounded her. She stared at him, wondering if he'd ever dare to kiss her. She needed to break the moment because the girl thought for sure she was blushing. Rusti stirred her milkshake, pretending it was hard work. "Well, maybe not 'freak', but irregular for sure."

"Psychics are not an anomaly anymore, Rusti. That all changed a long time ago. Still, psionics runs in families. So that still makes you a question mark. And maybe, just maybe, you are also affected by the virus, if only as a reflection of what Optimus and Roddi are going through."

Rusti could not look at him. She shrugged, more uncertain than ever. The prospect of being connected to the Matrix was not a pretty thought. Cody knew something about the incident she lived through in grade school, during the Doppelganger War. It was never a subject she liked to explore. That whole experience still left her with occasional nightmares; the Joys overdose Brian shot her with, the nights she spent alone and terrified in the city, the Cyberwraith . . . she shoved all that aside. It was in the past, a distant and cold past.

"Rus," he chirped, "do you think your guardians will let me take you to a movie this weekend?"

Rusti smiled brightly and her eyes grew wide.

. . . Rodimus sat at the long table listening to Magnus eat like some overstuff pig. The room they were in had rounded walls and a large oval window. It was night, naturally. The white tablecloth had been embroidered by Carly years and years ago.

Magnus still ate. At one point he belched, long and nasty. "Don'cha want none, Roddi? It's extra good! Baked it m'self!"

Rodimus stared at the food; the upper half of Optimus Prime lay on a huge silver platter. His pained optics stared at Rodimus, pleading. But he said nothing. Sadness filled the Autobot Second. "Magnus, I asked you not to do this. You promised me you wouldn't."

"I don't know what your problem is, Roddi." Magnus answered mater-of-factly, "he wasn't doing his job, anyway.

Rodimus' shoulders fell. He was so sorry for Optimus! It wasn't his fault! "He does it better than me." he murmured.

"So?" And Magnus bit off Prime's right hand.

Rodimus sat straight up with a "no!" He glanced about and found himself on a flat in Medical. A fuel line connected him to a drip feeder. The window to his right shed daylight in the room, comforting him just enough to make him realize that he was not trapped in the horrible bubble universe anymore. There was a bit of weak sunshine and an Aerialbot zipping across the sky. It was wonderful to see something familiar!

They released Rodimus from medical late that Tuesday afternoon, just three days after the time fracture event. He did not acknowledge anyone's greetings as he exited the medical center of Fort Max. Not that he was intentionally being rude, but something itched deep down and he could not shake the surges left by the dream.

First, he needed to take a trip to his own quarters.

They stood so still and dim. Even the sunset light filtering through the window failed to illuminate all the space. Rodimus took a step into his quarters, allowing the door to hiss shut behind him. Oh, home. How good it was. His own space.

But somehow it was all wrong. Somehow the room didn't feel complete; en total, as it were.

"It needs retouching." Roddi said to himself. Of course, he could have Max handle some of it. But he decided if someone else did the redecorating, it would contaminate the atmosphere.

Max.

That was the first and foremost problem. No spies were permitted, even if it were a living city.

Rodimus scoured through his private resting room, hauling out crates filled with . . . and here he smiled . . . 'groceries'. He'd been shopping before the 'Incident'.

Oh, that reminded the Autobot Second: he was supposed to go back to Central Command and check on the rebuilding progress. Yes, that was important. Magnus, the Big Guy, even said so. Rodimus lifted a large imported candle from one of three boxes. He decided more of these would be necessary for the purposes of his redecoration. Yup. Maybe 'bout, say, thirteen more. He already had eleven, but you know, the more, the merrier.

Roddi set the one four-wick candle near the door. Well, that was good for a start. However, the biggest problem was that darned city consciousness infiltrating his personal quarters day and night. Yeah. That would be a problem.

What to do, what to do? Rodimus stood stone-silent, optics narrow with thought, fingers habitually on the chin. Should he eliminate Max's nosiness first, then redecorate, or redecorate and then handle the city?

No, City has to go first. Yeah. That would be a lot of work, but Roddi was confident he could do it in a reasonable amount of time. After all, it was only eight P.M.

Rodimus tore his place up, shoved all the chairs and cabinets, the shelves and desk, the cushions and storage bins and data work to the center of the main room. He stripped his walls of paintings and posters, of plaques and photos.

That now done, he searched the ceiling. He hated the lighting above. Every room in Fort Max came equipped with that kind of lighting. It was noisy, obnoxious, rude. It had to go.

But that would mean he'd have to wrest control of his place from the city. He'd have to undermine Max's authority of his own quarters. Yes, that had to come first, that's why Rodimus tore his place up.

Roddi thought hard. He sank to his knees and thought hard. He'd have to steal his way into several subroutines, into the lines and paths of the city. It would not be as difficult a task as it seemed, not really. It was only 10 PM, after all.

First things first. "Max." he whispered and oh, so soft a whisper, because if anybody else was there, anyone other than Max, his plans would be found. That can't happen. His quarters were his place and Roddi was about to do something grotesque, something no one should see.

"Yes, Rodimus Prime." How cute! The city was unaware. It was so innocent!

Roddi grinned. "Lock my quarters. Hold my calls. I want to be alone." He waited exactly three point oh seventeen seconds. Rodimus took to his feet and rummaged through a crate for a box of tools. Necessary items, they were. Precious, very precious because even Kup did not know he had them. Not that tools were a no-no. But the old fart (heh) liked to be nosy and Roddi liked his privacy. Op . . . Op could care less. He had other problems at hand.

And that thought made the Autobot Second pause as he drew a sonic crowbar. He needed to visit Optimus, see how the ol' bean was doing. Funny, Roddi didn't think about visiting him before. But there was always time for pleasantries later. Rodimus slipped the crowbar into the lined floor and pressed down. It was no easy task to undo the paneling; it wasn't designed to be easy, but two shots from optic lasers (rather power-draining, but effective) and the panel unlocked and opened like a can.

Very nice.

The wiring, both semi-conducted and fiber-optic, zig-zagged under the paneling. Lines carrying lubricant and energon glowed in the darkness. Beautiful. Electro impulses of energy and thought of information and scans shot through other wiring like fireflies zooming for a final destination. Six cryo-theta plates sat perpendicular to the floor. These plates contained information regarding Roddi's personal quarters. They controlled light and temperature, door locks and how much space Rodimus was permitted. Roddi could not remove the plates without alerting the city to his tampering. But not a problem. Roddi was, after all, a Prime and Primes knew what to do.

He grinned, savoring this moment. "You're mine, Max." he whispered and Rodimus began to strip off his exostructure, plate by plate. Sometimes it hurt, but nothing was going to get between he and his goal. His room was his, his alone. No stinking city giant had the right to control his lighting, his door, his . . . anything. So Rodimus stripped his body armor, exposing muscle cables, connective fibers and fluid lines. He was a bloodied mess, but not seriously so. He lay down among the wiring like a baby in a cradle. In a moment, the subroutines would notice there was something inside the city and start to adjoin it.

There! Roddi twinged with a pinch of pain in his shoulder. He winced when something punctured his waist. He grinned maliciously when the city's systems connected to his hands. Good for Roddi. Bad for Max.

Midnight.

See? It didn't take long. Roddi woke and slowly tore himself from the city. (Ow) Oh, don't worry, Max was completely unaware of it now. Roddi rerouted Max's consciousness so that the city was not even aware of Roddi's quarters. Max did not remember Rodimus had quarters in that area. All Roddi had to do was change the memory routes to his office and rewrite the routines so that to the city, Rodimus' office looked like his quarters and vice versa. Max would be unable to tell the difference because . . . well, it was technical and Roddi did not have time to explain it all to himself. He replaced all his armor, so glad to have it all on again. He returned the floor plating and found his effort left him tired and hungry. But again, it was worth it. Max no longer had either access or control of his quarters.

Now it was time for a break. Get cleaned up, get some 'grub' and 'nosie' to Central Com, see how the little people were doing on its reconstruction.

Life was good.

It wasn't until late afternoon the following day that Rodimus emerged into public view. He meandered round this building and that in automobile mode, in no particular hurry. Most of Fort Max looked pretty good. Magnus, already back to work, had several of his 'girlies' scrubbing buildings and tending parks and gardens around the city.

Rodimus approached the yet-unfinished Central Command complex. Not only were the Paratrons rebuilding it, they were redesigning it so that it looked a bit fancier than before. Optimus would have a say about that later, no doubt. Optimus' warrior side would expect function before form. But it was all being done in his absence and most likely by the time he came back to work, the building would be finished. Why Magnus allowed the Paratrons to 'fun themselves' with such a project was not something Rodimus considered at this time.

He transformed and examined the grounds. Autobots and Paratrons came and left like ants rebuilding their nest after a bad rainstorm. Blurr zig-zagged in too many directions every few seconds. Shouts from topside to the north aimed at the Autobot, giving him not one second's worth of breath to argue. Rodimus swore he'd never seen Blurr so happy.

He found Groundbreaker and Doubletake pouring over the new plans as the sun kissed the horizon, taking late afternoon warmth from the Oregon sky. "Hiya, boys," Roddi greeted. "How goes it all?"

Groundbreaker glanced up then back to the plans. It was Doubletake that smiled in greeting. "We'll have the foundation finished in a few more hours and the basement level inner walls will be in place by tomorrow afternoon."

Roddi gave them a thumbs-up. "Good job!" He scanned the construction site. "How many boys you got working here?"

Groundbreaker tore his optics off the screen. "Oh, maybe two, two hundred fifty." We thought things would be done more quickly if we worked two shifts. It would be best to have it restored before Optimus comes back. How is he doing, by that way?"

Roddi stared at him a moment as though unsure how to answer the question. "Beats me. I'm sure he's coming along fine. No one has told me otherwise. Has Mags been by?"

Doubletake grinned again. "He likes this idea. We're opening the center for better access and he wants to know if we can do something about Communications District."

Roddi smiled, but not pleasantly. "Of course he does. Maybe if I like the finished product, I'll have you redesign my personal quarters. They're a bit crowded."

Doubletake returned to the plans. Groundbreaker offered Rodimus a thumbs-up until the Autobot leader walked away. Doubletake waited until Rodimus Prime was well out of audio range before whispering: "I didn't like the way he was staring at us. I felt like he was sizing me up like quality energon."

Groundbreaker shook his head, his smile never leaving his optics. "You're just tired. Take a recharge and I'll handle the braces along the western wall."

Doubletake thought it over then took his companion's offer.

Rusti was glad to be back in school by Monday. Rumors raced around Fort Max like a skin-contact rash and she was tired of overhearing all the idiotic things people were saying; like Roddi locked himself in his quarters, eating insects or that Optimus was dying in Medical . . . just a load of crap.

She was in a foul mood, anyway. Well, that was until Cody came into view. The girl became a walking smile and brightened even more when he handed her a hand-picked dandelion.

"I wanted to get you a rose, Rus, but I'm broke."

She sniffed it. "Mmm. Smells like a rose to me." His nose met hers and chills ran down Rusti's back. Would those lips ever touch hers? First Period bell rang through the halls, calling all students to their assigned classes. The corners of Rusti's mouth turned down. Damn. One minute her eyebrow tingled and the next, she watched Cody dash down the hall to his world history class. She touched her eyebrow. The lips are BELOW the eye balls, you Dweeb, She thought.

Jenn found her seat next to Rusti in science and sat with a downed expression. Rusti watched as the teen produced book and papers from her back pack. "Family problems again, Jenn?"

"Hmm?" Jenn stared at her though a pair of sunglasses. "Yes, of course. My dad totally flew off the handle this weekend. Thinks he's Mister Studly now and brought this bimbo in from some sleaze joint and shoved her in my mom's face. My mom went ballistic." Jenn glanced down a moment and peeled off the glasses. She turned to Rusti, revealing the swollen and blackened edges of a patched-over eye. "Well there was a fight and my dad threw a bat, shattered a couple of lamps, a window, the glass door and hit my mom. I got in the way and . . ." She shrugged. "My dad's in jail, the bimbo took off and my mom and I are staying with my aunt. End of story. So far." She offered a frank smile and shrugged. "Bad weekend."

"I'm sorry, Jenn!" Rusti laid a hand on her friend's arm.

Jenn shrugged again. "Could be worse. Mr. Goosey-Loosey could give us a pop quiz, right?"

Rusti smiled in turn and gave her attention to the science teacher as he entered the door five minutes late.

Cody caught up with her after school. She took her time approaching the bus stop along the sidewalk, pretending not to notice him until the boy touched her shoulder. She turned. "Oh, hi, Cody! How was school?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "You know . . . school. Nothing to write home about. You going straight back to Fort Max?"

"Yes. I have to ask permission to go elsewhere, you know that."

"Yeah. Can I tag along?"

"Yeah." And she waited for him to say something else, something that might clue her in on some ulterior motive. "Homework?" she asked.

"Yeah. Of course."

And he fell quiet again. She hated fishing for conversation. "What's on your mind, Cody?"

"Didja see him today?"

"Who?"

"Him . . . It."

She batted her eyes once. "It . . . " then it dawned on her and Rusti was taken back by shock. "Ohmigod! You're right! I haven't seen it for a week! Ohmigod! I wonder why?"

"How's Optimus Prime?"

She didn't think about that at first, either. "I don't know." then she realized the connection there too. "I don't know," she repeated in a different tone. A moving shadow caught the edge of her sight and Rusti turned left. Her eyes shot wide as she watched the same black stick-figure alien walking dead silent among a group of students. They weren't aware of its presence. She stepped back toward Cody. "Do you see that?"

"What?"

"That alien?"

"Huh?"

She turned to explain when another alien approached Cody and lifted its handless arm. Rusti pushed Cody aside and pointed at the creature invisible to all but her. "Sha'tda 'at Dana!" Anger threatened to burst right out of her. The alien spoke, but its language sounded like nothing more than a few gurgles and clicks. Rusti glared at it as it rounded the two of them, joining its companion as it departed from the group of students, now marked with black spring-like devices above their heads.

"Rusti, you frighten me." Cody's soft voice brought her back to the moment and she finally tore her eyes off the creatures. "What was that all about?"

"It's a very old problem, Cody." she answered quietly. "I need to let Ultra Magnus know."

"I'm sorry. Ultra Magnus is out on field practice." The Paratron receptionist didn't seem a bit interested. Tempra tapped her keyboard, entering who knows what into the computer.

"This is really important." Rusti insisted. This particular receptionist didn't seem to like anyone interrupting her work. Rusti talked with Aunt Missy about the femme and found that Marissa herself received the same kind of treatment.

"I can't do anything about it now." The femme turned away and filed a digipad in a wall cabinet. Defeated, Rusti and Cody turned to leave. Maybe they could catch up with the Major-General on the field, even if it was forbidden to civilians to be out there during practice runs.

The high school students traveled along the bridge crossing Autobot river from Magnus' office building to the inner city training grounds. From there, Rusti glanced two stories down and watched as a whole squad of Autobot warriors exercised several fighting maneuvers. Cody joined her and grinned. Perfect unity, perfect timing, all working according to Magnus' strict commands. Then both teens realized Magnus spotted them. Rusti startled, forgetting how sharp an observer Ultra Magnus was. It was rare that anything escaped his optics. He gave several commands in Autobot and Strike Back took his place as he departed.

"Think we're in trouble?" Cody asked quietly.

"Mmmmm . . . depends on his mood." Rusti answered.

Cody looked uneasy. "That is one Autobot I would not want to have mad at me."

They waited as the Major-General climbed the bridge in truck mode and transformed. At first he stared down at them in robot form, looking rather menacing then his frown lightened and he knelt before them. "Rusti?"

"I'm sorry, Ultra Magnus. Your receptionist said you were in the field."

Magnus looked stern then stood. He realized that Rusti would never have been out there were it not very important. "Come to my office."

Magnus ushered Rusti and Cody in and asked Max for the lights. It had been a long while since Rusti last visited the City Commander's personal office. He owned more artifacts decorating his walls and more shelves displaying photographs and little figurines of wrestlers and football athletes and near the window stood a large fish tank with a fish the size of three humans. Magnus took his seat behind the large desk and crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms defensively.

"What's on your mind, Rusti?"

"Aliens." she answered directly, "The same ones I saw in the fourth grade during the Doppelganger war. I thought that while I was sick, I was just seeing things. But I'm not sick anymore and I still see them."

"Them?"

"I don't know what they're called. But they're tall, about six feet. And they looked like drawn stick figures with no heads, hands or feet."

Magnus thought for a moment and decided to come from around his desk. He set his hand on the floor, inviting Rusti and Cody aboard and set them on his desktop. He returned to his seat and activated the computer on his desk. "Let me know if they look like anything here." He punched in a few commands and up popped the very thing Rusti described.

"YES!" she declared excitedly. "That's them! One of them was going to touch Cody, but I snapped at it and it rounded us. But they touched several other students and left this black spring-like device on their heads."

Magnus laced his fingers on the desk staring at her. "How is it that you can see them and no one else can?"

"I don't know."

Magnus stared at his hand units a moment then glanced back at her. "I can't do anything about it at the moment. But I want you to let me know each day you see them from here forward."

"Okay. Is that important?"

"Very important, Rusti. You might have found a missing element for us."

---------------------------------------

First Aid wanted to run the whole damned test for the fourth time. His computers and scanners found absolutely nothing wrong with Optimus. There were no signs of internal leaks, no ruptures, no burn-outs or damage of any other kind. It was as though nothing had happened. Prime was unconscious for three days after the strange incident that froze everyone for an indeterminate amount of time. He bled and suffered power loss and terrible pain. Now it was all gone, all the symptoms just left in the flicker of an optic.

First Aide begged Prime to let him run the tests again. But Optimus already lost his patience, shouted "NO!" and stomped out. Aid stared as the door closed after Prime. He had never known Optimus to be quite so rude. He shrugged it off; he had been rather persistent. And Optimus did have a lot of catching up to do. He supposed it was okay.

Three Paratrons greeted Prime as he approached Central Command. The building loomed before him now in a more curved fashion. Rather than tearing the whole construct down, the Paratrons merely repaired those places not severely damaged and built around them, shaping them into a semi-circular construct. They were delighted to see Prime approach just as they were finishing the clean-up.

Optimus didn't really know what to think of the building. It was hard for him not to shrink away from the five-then-six Paratrons that raced for him, seeking approval. He did not want to be near anyone at this point. But he forced himself to give them cordial greetings and the general small talk that seemed to make their day (hello, so-and-so, how are you doing? That's good. How's work? That's good. Keep it up).

Optimus could not get to his office soon enough. He sat at his desk and stared at the five stacks of digipads, all neatly organized and straight.

Magnus was here. Optimus picked up one, then another and a third then a fourth, sifting through . . . well, he didn't know what he was looking for, exactly, but it made him feel like he was doing something other than sitting. After thirty minutes, the area stood in disarray after the Autobot leader reorganized all of Magnus' precious, neatly-stacked piles of digipads. For Magnus everything had to be in perfect order and it annoyed the Autobot leader. Not so much that it was a 'thing' with Magnus, but that it was in HIS personal office, in HIS space. But his rummaging cured that.

Now he sat there in the still and silent. His desk was a landscape of mountains of unfinished things. They stared, waiting with the impatience of hungry children. Me first! No! Me! Nah-uh! I'm more important! And the digipads all clamored in his mind, shouting for attention. But all Optimus could do was sit and stare. Where was the daily drive that compelled him to pick up this and that and finish it? Whatever happened to the great leader who seemed so incredibly capable of doing everything at once and then some?

Optimus felt no sorrow at the moment. No anger or impatience ran through his fuel lines. No sense of loss or overwhelming exhaustion. No, he just sat and stared in the quiet office, his back to the great picture window. Outside the sun beamed through a partly cloudy sky. It was a perfect Tuesday afternoon. No appointments (Magnus canceled all appointments or took care of them himself). No one shouted or demanded or begged anything of him-no one but the blasted pads. It was so easy to just turn away.

That's right, turn away. The chair, his chair, after all, swivels. That's right! Prime smiled-Yup! And he lifted his feet and set the chair back a few inches and WEEEEEEE! Around and around the chair went, wherever he ended up was where he was sent . . .

THAT was a bit of emotional fun, wasn't it? Rusti would have liked that.

Oh. Rusti. Optimus stopped playing with his chair and stared out the large picture window. Where was that spot of perfect sunshine, anyway?

Oh. School. Yes. A good place for all well-behaved boys and girls, Optimus supposed. Though he never went to school. What a funny institution. Why not just genetically implant information into a Human embryo? Why not just encode all needed information straight to the genetic DNA? If evolution was the true case in life, then why can't Humans just program their own cells to do as they wish? Why not program genetics to be perfectly beautiful or perfectly fit or perfectly this, that or the other thing? Why can't the cells do as they were told?

Oops. Off track, there. Optimus was supposed to be concentrating on the digipads. Those damned things that had to be worked on. He reached around the chair and fingered his way about until his hand touched a pad. He slid it off, causing other pads to collide and clatter, spilling all out of whatever order Magnus originally put them in. Might be order of importance. That didn't matter to Optimus. Nothing was important right now. But he drew up the one he selected by touch and stared at it.

It was an update from the Lunar Colony regarding their findings on the south poles of the moon. Probably gum wrappers or something, the Autobot leader mused sourly. Nope. Fragments of meteor rock. Yipee.

Weren't there other, more pressing things to be done other than just look at someone else's misadventures? Prime privately sneered at the pad. This was stupid! Why did he bother to stay informed about such trivial things? What was so useful about this information, or that person or why the damned planet kept spinning on its damnedable axis day after useless stupid day?

Where was Rusti? And why was he so obsessed over her? And why was she around that . . . boy?

Cody. That was his name. Optimus mused over his own bitter thoughts regarding Rusti's 'little friend'. Cody was a nice kid. Optimus actually felt he could trust the boy around her. That didn't mean he would consent to marriage-

WHOA, THERE! The Autobot leader found himself on his feet, staring out the window, actually looking for Rusti and Cody, half expecting them to be walking along Max's pathways and roads hand-in-hand. He caught himself . . . was that a bout of jealousy?

From him?

Ridiculous!

Let the matter lie. Leave it alone. He had no business. None.

None.

And he settled down. His optics drifted back to his desk and the waiting digipads. Damnedable things! Why can't they have already been finished? Why did he allow himself to be holed up in this little room day after day? He needed some fresh air and sunshine while it lasted. To the Pitt with responsibility! He was bored out of his cranial chamber!

Ring around the rosies . . .

He'll kick 'em all with his tosies . . .

Ashes . . . ashes . . .

"Ashes . . ." he sang softly, "Ashes . . ." And with sorrow in his heart Optimus leaned against the window ledge, so sorry he failed his people. So very, very sorry.

Ashes . . . ashes . . .

"Ten little Autobots walking on the line

One fell off and lost his mind . . ."

Optimus sighed. They're all gone. All of them will sooner or later be dead.

"God called the doctor and the doctor chimed,

"Just move on and leave it behind."

"What's the matter with me?" he demanded of nobody but himself. "What am I doing? Goofing off will get nothing done!" And he turned from the window to face the multitude of pads and picked one up, glanced over it and gave his approval. That was easy enough! Another one, please. And he glanced over it and rejected the request. That was easy, too.

And he picked up another one and glanced over the report and gave the order to cease investigation, it was leading nowhere. He signed it and set it in another pile. THAT was done. And he picked up another and another and in ten minutes, Optimus had gone through fifteen pads. Suddenly he felt all better. That's all he needed! A good swift kick in the aft and ta-da! Work was being done!

This was good!

Optimus swept up yet another pad and discovered a disturbing complaint regarding Strike Back. He searched for the date and found it was registered only two days ago. He hated this kind of task. Strike Back was a good officer, but had a temper and tended to ignore rules and orders. Optimus hoped by the time Fort Zenith was done, Strike Back would be ready to take on as its city commander. If not, then Optimus would chose someone else; maybe someone from Fort Sonix. Though, Optimus mused, he might have to fight Jazz to get the officer he wanted. Jazz regarded his people jealously. Well, not everyone . . . he seemed more than happy to send Trixy their way.

This, however, was not going to be a better day. He punched in an order to Ambience to contact Strike Back and send him here.

Ten minutes later, Ultra Magnus' Second entered Optimus' office and greeted him with a short salute. Optimus read the nervousness in the Autobot's posture however and wondered if he should make this as painless as possible. However, if he did that, Strike Back might not learn his lesson.

Prime slipped into authoritarian mode. "Strike back it has been brought to my attention that you have been accused of picking fights in the bar. Is this true?"

Strike Back stiffened. "Sir?"

Prime stood and found it painful to do so. He hid the grimace by glancing out the window before facing the Autobot soldier. Prime gestured to the chair at the other side of his desk and Strike Back sat at the edge. "What is your story, Strike Back?"

"W-well, sir, I was off-duty and wanted to have some fun. Hotspot and I were doing darts, Sir and Sunstreaker wanted to join us. But I didn't want to allow someone else to join in a game that already started." Strike paused to see if Prime had any comments to make. Optimus remained impassive, listening carefully. "So . . ."

Strike Back's voice faded from Prime's mind for a moment. His thoughts drifted back several years and the Autobot leader could not figure what might have triggered the drift; some part of him recalled another darkness, an unholy darkness that brought him out of the Light. Who did that? He thought he flinched with phantom pains. They shot things into him. They shocked his body into animation but it wasn't him! It wasn't him!

Yes it was.

No, it wasn't!

Yes-

No!

It wasn't at first. He was a monster, a shell brought back from the dead-a tool the sl'kikik used in an attempt to destroy the Autobots.

Oh, how precious close that was, too! Had Optimus not 'awakened' to stop what was going on (in spite of horrific pains) there would have been no more Autobots. There would have . . .

Stop it!

STOP IT!

" . . . when he insisted, I got mad and told him to take a hike." Here again Strike Back hesitated, trying to read Prime's expression, but saw nothing. "When he argued that he could go and do anything he wanted, any time and that no-um-'pup of Magnus' was going to push him around. . ." Now Strike Back's face fell, optics glued to the floor. "I . . . I punched him. He got mad and punched back and before I knew it, we were throwing things-" he stopped talking when Prime held up his hand.

"You lost control." Optimus surprised himself. How much of Strike's explanation did he miss? It could not have been that much, apparently. He could piece together whatever else happened without more input from the Autobot. Prime watched as Strike Back nodded hesitantly, without meeting his optics.

"I lost control." Magnus' Second repeated.

"Strike Back, no one, under any circumstances, can afford to lose control on or off the battlefield. Not only have you lost control in front of your fellow warriors, but you have lowered your self respect." Prime paused. "Unfortunately, that incident is not the only thing that has been reported." Prime watched as Strike Back continued to stare at the floor. "You have been drilling the troops near the Communications district. Why is that?"

Strike Back innocently shrugged his shoulder struts. "I . . . felt it was good they practiced in a different area of the city, sir. Different location-"

"Strike Back, you know that area is off limits. I am aware that Ultra Magnus has warned you repeatedly about drilling the troops in and around Communications. Because you disregarded rules, three civilians were injured during a hunt-and-raid practice." Again Optimus fell silent, watching Strike Back's body language, sensing his remorse, but unfortunately, Optimus also sensed terrible anger toward him personally. Not that it really mattered to the Autobot leader, but he hoped to steer Strike Back in a clearer direction, make him see how important his role was. Unintentional mistakes were one thing; but Strike's mistakes were clearly deliberate.

Optimus quietly sighed. Whatever that flash back did to him, it left him weary. "Unfortunately, Strike Back, there is one more thing I need to discuss with you." He waited a beat. "Your paperwork. I have found your reports are incomplete and often misspelled. You've left out important details regarding Autobot injuries during practice. How can I take care of problems that arise if they are not properly addressed? Your reports are important so that I can address problems as they happen. But Strike Back, if I can't depend on you to do your job properly, I will be forced to replace you. Magnus speaks highly of you, but of late, you seem to be . . . distracted."

Tense silence followed until Strike Back finally found his vocalizer. "I'm sorry sir . . . Yes sir."

Optimus wondered if there were problems in Strike Back's personal life but clearly, Strike Back had no defense. And that was something Optimus feared. This was one of the ugliest parts of leadership. "Strike Back, I am denying you privileges to Cybersphere and 'joy runs' to Central City for the next two months. I want you to go four months back in your data work and rewrite each and every one of your reports. For the next two months you will also take on some of Ultra Magnus' work, whatever he feels appropriate for you to handle-"

Strike Back's lip components dropped in shock. He stood and backed two steps from the desk. "Optimus!"

"You leave me no choice!" Prime kept his firm without shouting. "You've let us down, Strike Back. I can't let you off with just a warning. In your position, people's lives are at stake and I cannot permit anyone in authority to get sloppy or arrogant." Prime was sure had Strike Back been human, he would have been blushing terribly.

Optimus felt drained, now. Perhaps a few minutes in shut down would help. But he refused to let his own posture slump in front of his officer. "Dismissed." he ended quietly.

Strike Back looked like a whipped puppy. He didn't even make optical contact with Prime nor did he salute. He exited the room without another word and Optimus collapsed in his chair, pushed several digipads out of the way, laid his head over crossed arms and practically passed out.

---------------------------------------

. . . no sooner had Roddi laid down for a descent rest than he found himself traversing Max's myriad hallways. The lighting was dim, but of course, all power was being directed to the operating room. He could hear Rusti screaming in agony as the doctors did their best to quell her pain. But obviously their efforts were in vain. It was bound to happen. This is her punishment for touching something not meant for her.

Rodimus entered the operating room. The floor gleamed with blood; red blood mingled with black blood. Doctor Cynyr shook his head at Rodimus. "I told you to keep her locked up. This is the price she pays for your stupidity. Now you're going to have to pay the hospital bill and get me lunch."

Rusti screamed again and a tentacle snaked out her mouth. She arched her back and a nurse moved in front of her. "Here it comes!" she declared.

And Rusti gave birth to a Quintesson. She screamed with every shred of her life.

Rodimus sprang from his flat and cried out himself. The darkness of his own quarters met his wild, frightened optics. It took him a moment or two . . . no screams from Rusti, no power shortages. He was here, in the solitude of his own place. Rusti was okay, probably in school or something. Oh, thank Primus for that! Nobody should touch her! "Rusti!" He moaned and half wept, sat up, bowed over and rocked back and forth.

---------------------------------------

Rusti found Roddi strolling about the courtyard outside the EDC cafeteria. It did not occur to her that it was an odd place for him to be when he should be tending diplomats or checking on inventory. She caught up with him and he turned at her touch.

"Heya, Rust-i-mus! Heh!" He grinned at his own bad joke, "What's goin' down yer way?"

Rusti suddenly felt uneasy. "Um, Roddi, Cody wants to take me to see a movie Saturday afternoon. Can I go?"

Rodimus knelt, the ridiculous grin never left his lip components. "Boy, this guy's sweet on you, isn't he?"

"Roddi!" Rusti flushed and hoped nobody nearby heard that.

Rodimus stared at the clouds, fingers holding chin as though he were making the most serious of all decisions. "Mmm . . . okay, Rus. But don't come home pregnant, okay?"

Horrified and indignant, Rusti drew a deep breath, "RODIMUS!" But the argument never got off the ground. An EDC captain approached, breaking Roddi's attention from her.

"Sir, we've received a report in regards to the Orion Lieutenant Napril and her teenage daughter, Ginger. They've been missing for two days. Her family filed a missing person's report as of this morning."

Rusti slowly, quietly backed from the scene. Roddi no longer seemed to realize she was even there. A cold shiver raced down her back. She didn't want to know. Whatever it was, Rusti didn't want to know.

She returned to her room there at the EDC complex and flopped on the bed, heaving a great sigh. She wanted to talk to someone. Jenn, maybe, but Jenn had her own problems at the moment. She thought about talking to Cody, but felt funny calling him up and just spilling her gut. On the other hand, it would be worse for Jenn; the girl knew nothing about what was going on at Fort Max and really wasn't supposed to. Not that Rusti didn't trust her, but it just didn't seem right, somehow.

Well, she'd call Cody. He needed to know about Saturday, anyhow. She plucked the phone off the wall with a glance at her 'fairies and 'bots' calendar and punched Cody's number.

One ring, two, three. The wall in front bulged or so she thought. Rusti almost didn't answer Mrs. Greydon. "Uh, hi, Mrs. Greydon, is Cody there? It's Rusti."

"Oh, hi, dear! Yes, hold on."

And Rusti continued to stare at the wall in front of her, hoping it would bulge or move again so she would not have to count herself insane.

But nothing else happened.

"Hey, Resonna!" Cody teased.

"Cody!"

He laughed. "I'm just yanking your chain, girl. What's up?"

"Roddi says it's okay as long as I don't get pregnant." Rusti thought she could feel Cody blush through the phone line. She smiled. It really was kinda funny after all. "Cody? Are you still there?"

"Yeah . . . I'm here. Okay, that's great. What time? D'you want me to pick you up, or do you want to meet me there?"

She didn't care. Rusti laid on her bed and sighed. "Cody, how does a person handle someone who's losing their minds?"

"You're not losing your mind, Rusti. You're-"

"No, but Roddi . . . he's not himself."

"He's always been a bit nutty, though. I mean, yeah, okay, that doctor from the other dimension said something in regards to it, that the Matrix has a virus and all, Rus, but . . ."

She sensed him shrug, unable to figure out what to say to comfort and assure her. Rusti turned on her side and picked at the colors on her comforter. "I'm scared, Cody. Things are still so weird around Autobot City, though not to the degree they were before the fragment occurred. But it's like . . . I dunno."

"A proverbial calm before the storm?" the boy offered.

"Yeah. But maybe I'm being paranoid. Maybe things are just settling down and somehow Optimus and Roddi will be able to work their way through it all. You know, Optimus has been through a lot, and I'm sure this is just one of a billion things he's been through and probably it's nowhere nearly as terrible as some of the other things he's suffered."

"I don't think your fears are unfounded, Rusti, really." Cody didn't sound as patronizing as she feared. It dawned on the girl why she didn't want to talk to just anyone about her fears; they might not understand the problem and her position.

The wall next to her dresser bulged. Rusti about jumped out of her skin. "Ohmigod,"

"What? What is it?"

"Cody, the walls are bulging around my room." She approached and touched the area, hoping her hand would not get caught in the wall itself. But nothing happened. It was just the same steadfast metal paneling.

"Do you think it's another manifestation?"

"Maybe. Ohmigod, I'm scared! And I hope neither of them do anything rash!"

"Optimus and Rodimus, you mean?"

"Yeah. But what's it going to lead to? I mean, do you think the virus will just run its course and that will be it?"

"What do you think, Rusti?"

It wasn't the kind of answer she was looking for. Rusti knew the answer. The Matrix was not an organic creature. It was not some alien computer that could be fixed with a new mother board and some WD-40. She closed her eyes and sighed. "I think . . . I will be more than happy to see that movie with you on Saturday."

"I'll pick you up, then, okay?"

"Kay. What are we seeing?"

"The Ditz."

A grin swept across Rusti's expression. A comedy was exactly what she needed.

All through the film a painful tightness tried to choke the girl. Rusti enjoyed the film, but the tightness tried to keep her from breathing and Rusti often had to consciously think about breathing. When the movie ended, the tightness lifted a little. She didn't want to say anything to Cody and ruin the afternoon. So she silently suffered. They returned to Fort Max just as the sun was setting. The keepers greeted the two young people from the North-eastern gate and directed them to stay clear of Central Command for the next three hours due to powerline realignment.

Cody veered right toward the EDC complex as the city lights shot on, burning bright yellow and orange and lighting the nearby fountain in a multi-colored display. Rusti loved to walk the streets at night, but often it was too cold for her so she merely observed the city from her room or an observation deck.

Cody pulled the car just in front of the personal quarters and sighed. "I'm sorry I can't come in for a visit tonight, Rus. Mom's waiting with dinner at home."

"It's okay." she answered softly, "I still have homework to do." She sought his eyes as she wrapped her purse strap round her hand. In a second, Cody darted and kissed the corner of her mouth. She smiled and just stared . . . kinda, sorta hoping . . . and then he moved more slowly and kissed her top lip. She touched his bottom lip with hers. Firm, dry, but pleasant she found she liked the sensation.

They parted and she laid her hand on her chest. She wasn't sure if she wanted to go further or not. It was hard, especially since they were out in front of everyone. But Cody rescued the awkwardness of the moment by squeezing her hand.

"Thanks for seeing the flick with me, Rus. Give me a call, okay?"

And now she was all smiles. What a sweety! "Okay." and she dared a last kiss on his cheek before abandoning the car. He set the car in gear and they waved good-bye before parting. Rusti waited until he was out of sight before laying her hand on her chest and slowly making her way into the quarters building.

Did that really happen? Did they really kiss?

He did! He kissed her! She touched her lips, not realizing Arcana was standing nearby watching.

"How are you tonight, Miss Witwicky?" he called from the check-in counter on the girl's left hand side.

"Hu?" She turned, dazed from her own little world. "I'm fine, thank you."

"That's good. For a moment I thought you had wings on your feet." He winked at her and she flushed three shades of red. A chill shot across her back and Rusti started walking backwards from him.

"Uh, we just . . . saw a movie. I have to . . . homework uh, finish, you know." She shrugged and realized what she said came out all wrong. She flushed even worse and quickly left.

Once again sleep evaded her. Rusti tossed one side and then the other across her bed. She kicked the covers off then brought them close. She got up once and changed her night clothes. She played soft music and even asked Max to open her window. One thought led to a million more and no rest came. Rusti finally decided it would be one of those nights and at one in the morning, she surrendered.

The girl slipped on warm clothes and shoes and made her way out the building toward one of the small parks located on the other side of the quarters complex.

While Fort Max was well-lit at night, the shadows still cast uneasy shapes along the ground and against building walls. The park was not far from the buildings, but far enough to leave the girl a little nervous. She knew better than to be out like this; not that being out in the streets at night was so bad; crime in Fort Max was next to nothing, considering most people are aware the city itself was a sentient being and almost omnipresent.

She tip-toed across one street, silent like a cat sneaking about unknown territory. Then her shoes contacted soft grass and for some reason, Rusti felt much better, almost instantly. She found the swings located in the near-center and sat down, hands in coat pockets. The chilled October air churned her breath into bits of fog that drifted with the stiff breeze. Her cheeks stiffened under the frost but she was not about to go back to bed just yet. Something kept her awake. Maybe she was just a little excited about Cody. He was such a great guy! He was always so kind and thoughtful toward her. He was very considerate of her feelings. Cody listened to what she had to say. He honestly cared and it felt good to be around him.

Maybe they'd end up married someday.

Oh.

What about Optimus?

Rusti laced her fingers about the swing chains and rocked herself heel to toe. What would she do about Optimus? Then again, why would he be so concerned about her life? After all, he's a million times older than she and he certainly would not want her to spend her whole life just for him.

Listen to her! Rusti shook her head, confused. Was this what her sleeplessness was all about? She frowned and stared at the dark ground. Why would she be so concerned?

Did . . . did she love him too? Haha! Stupid girl! Optimus was a completely different species from her! As if he'd even been HALF way interested in her feelings . . . and feelings they were, too, now that she thought of it. She did love him.

Her heart sank. That might not be such a good thing after all. What if she married somebody but still loved him? Would he always be on her mind while she made love to someone else? Would she always pretend to hope herself loved by Optimus? That wouldn't be fair to the man she married. What if she decided not to marry at all, but find that her love was not, or could not be returned?

"Ohh . . ." she whispered softly. Was it a serious case of unrequited love? That's cruel! No! (This is what they call denial) she didn't really love him! She was faking it all! Fooling herself! How could she love an Autobot! It was absurd . . . and yet, (here comes the truth) yet, she loved him, worried about him, fought to be with him.

That wasn't fair! Tears welled from deep inside her. It CAN'T be true! If she loved him and fell in love with Cody or maybe someone else down the line then what was she going to do? And if she loved Optimus and he couldn't love her back, what would she do then?

Rusti gave in to tears and bowed over, weeping. Why was nothing simple?

Footsteps slished through the grasses nearby and Rusti instantly stopped crying. This was a private moment; she didn't want anyone to see her personal misery. Well, she should get back to bed, anyway. Glancing this way and that, she saw nothing. Abandoning the swing, Rusti glanced between trees and over shrub, ignoring the cold as it slipped under her jacket.

There was a faint light on the other side of the monkey gym made of old tires. She silently picked her way about, making her way across the sandy ground, hiding under one set of tires then peering round the corner of a small maze.

Not close enough. She perceived shadows and humanoid figures but could neither hear voices nor make out faces. Rusti crawled along the biting sand, grimacing as the crunchy grit froze her naked palms.

There! She encountered a small tunnel made of giant-sized tires and peered round the side. The dim lighting was actually several auras glowing about several tall lanky Chapronites, the very same aliens she spotted off and on at the high school. Before them stood a pair of humans in street clothes. At first, they looked exactly alike but upon closer inspection, Rusti realized one of them was a puppet, or rather a humanoid with a dummy-like face that only resembled its human companion.

Could that be . . .? No, no, it could not! All the Doppelgangers were slain years ago! They had to have been! Rusti averted her eyes elsewhere, trying to consider how it could be she was seeing one. Maybe they didn't all perish. Maybe not all of them were there at the battle on the Ribbon. It would mean, it could mean . . . and here this frightened her into remembering one afternoon when she was eating chocolate covered strawberries with Dezi and . . . Rusti's eyes narrowed.

The human spoke, but the girl was too far to hear what was said. She needed to get to Ultra Magnus. Rusti started to back slowly away, cautious of every move and sound she made.

The Chapronites spoke, creeping her out with their language, a series of clicking sounds punctuated with whispers and short shrieks.

Something stirred within her. Rusti thought she sensed every particle of everything around her. The tires; she felt their living vibrations, the very things that made their substance. She sensed the trees around her, heard them breathe. She felt the tiny steadfastness of every grain of sand under her form. Her own body, soft, frail, touched the city, or rather, the metal of the city. And she could feel the city itself, thinking, breathing; everything was alive in one degree or another around her. But the aliens she could not sense and she felt as though her personal space were compromised.

One alien seemed to look in her direction, though the creature had no head. There were no eyes to spy her out. There seemed no life force the sorts of which she could identify.

What the hell was she doing out here, anyway? Forgetting discretion, Rusti scampered to her feet and made her way back to the EDC quarters where she should have stayed to begin with. But because she did not heed the protocols of sneaking, the aliens found her out and their bodies shot through the air so fast Rusti did not realize they were there before she nearly ran into one. She caught her breath in a start and tried to step away, only to bounce off the body of another one.

"What's this!" the human and his dummy counterpart crushed and kicked sand in their wake. Rusti was suddenly very afraid. She turned to leave but the third Chapronite blocked her path. The man gripped her arm very tightly.

"No! Let go of me!" she demanded. The Chapronites clicked and chattered.

"I don't care who she is," the man snarled, "We don't need complications. I already told you that. The deal was: in, out and no complications. And THIS-" here he grabbed her by the chin and pressed her head back. Rusti struggled to breathe. "-is a complication!"

He meant to snap her neck. Rusti felt his thick tough-skinned finger over her lip and invited his finger in. She bit down as hard and fast as she could. He screamed and pushed her down. Rusti coughed and gasped for air just before he kicked her in the side. She rolled and brought her legs up. That was a rib that cracked. He jumped to kick her again but this time something deep inside her stirred, the selfsame Presence that raised her consciousness, the same Force that lived in and around the city.

The Music played.

The Human did not see her blink with eyes glowing bright blue. She caught his foot when it nearly impacted her body. She tripped him up and stood. One of the Chapronites reached to touch her, but Rusti was too aware of her surroundings and swung about, pointing at them "Sha'tda 'at Dana!" she snarled. And she heard the man's fist come flying through the air. She spun and caught the fist, shocking her opponent. She kicked him under the sternum twice before whacking him in the jaw, and sent him sprawling.

The dummy glanced from its owner to her and Rusti met its lifeless eyes. She pointed at it. "NOT IN MY CITY." Her voice projected with terrible power, but only those around her heard it. Rusti thought she still spoke with her small voice. The dummy blew apart in a rain of ash. The man screamed and held his head between his hands before he jumped to his feet.

"What are you waiting for! Kill her!"

Rusti stared at him then stared into him. The man's eyes shot wide. He wailed then screamed. Blood flowed from his ears and eyes.

His scream was joined by another great shriek.

It was a familiar sound, with a very familiar presence that touched Rusti's mind and she peered round the right of the Chapronite to her right and there stood Freak.

The girl recalled the incident in her room and watched as the psychological manifestation neared them. The Chapronites were in for an unpleasant surprise.

Freak screamed and the scream, starting out at a low frequency, grew louder and louder. The Chapronites held their handless arms out as though to ward off the devilish image. The sound threatened to make Rusti deaf but she crawled toward it as tears drenched her face. With terrible effort, she stood. Her body weakened with every second the sound emanated from Freak. She wrapped her arms around Freak and lost all consciousness.

The morning sun found Rusti sitting in cold sand, her arms wrapped about her knees, staring into nothing. The three Chapronite bodies lay as grey and cold as the air about them. Kup and Magnus taped the park off while EDC officials and Autobot officers scoured the grounds. Captain Fairborn and an alien nurse approached Rusti with a comforter and a cup of hot cocoa.

Magnus stomped about, leaving footprints in grass and sand alike. "I want detailed reports!" he shouted at Kup and Streetwise. "I want forensic scans, energy readings, footmarks measured, I want every grain of sand uncovered and analyzed under an electron microscope. What are those people doing here? Can't they see we're working? What? Did I say reporters were allowed here? Come on, people, go find a cat-in-a-tree story! What do you mean Max is busy? Don't give me that kind of p'ka! Springer, where do you think you're going, microt? Get your aft over here and take notes!"

The alien nurse locked eyes with Fairborn and Marissa frowned. "Maybe we should take her to a quieter setting."

The ladies took Rusti to Dr. Cynyr but as he was already occupied with another patient, the nurse brought Rusti into another room. Marissa would have stayed, but Magnus called her back and she moaned.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," she kissed Rusti's cold cheek. "I have to go. Nurse . . ." she glanced at the near-bald alien who smiled and lipped her name silently, ". . . Val will take care of you, okay? I'll talk to you later."

And she left them alone.

Rusti did nothing. Her mind remained dark with the memory of last night and she trembled from Freak's terrible screams. That was Optimus, wasn't it? That was what it was all about; suffering in silence and solitude; nobody heard, nobody could do anything about it.

And she was missing school. Again. Rusti blinked. No, today was Sunday.

"What you have in your hands is supposed to help you, my dear."

Val's voice brought the girl back to the moment and Rusty gingerly sipped. The warmth trailed down the back of her throat and eked through her ears. Her breasts, thighs and cheeks were all pinched with cold. She stared at the alien nurse, the female of a species Rusti could not place. A crest graced her head like a crown of opal. She had large square eyes and natural boney armor structures rising from her elbows to points off her shoulders. The rest of her body was concealed by a medical uniform. She was very pretty, even by Human standards.

Rusti drew a long, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. "They're going to think I killed that man and those aliens." Her eyes fell back to the cup of hot cocoa, now half empty. "I didn't kill them. And if I did, I didn't mean to."

"You had no weapons. How could you have killed them?"

Rusti shrugged and batted her eyes. Her body did not want to warm up. "I . . . I'm sure it was something else. Like the school long time ago. Like . . . like the volleyball, like . . . Music." Rusti's voice trailed off. The Music was there. It came from the walls. It emanated from the lighting above her. A laser core vibrated softly. Maybe it was her own heart. She closed her eyes and felt it all about her.

"You're losing yourself to it, Rusti. Come back to me."

The girl could not figure if it was Nurse Val that actually said that, or someone else. The voice was strange, soft but frighteningly powerful. "I feel It all through me. I feel It in me and around me . . . I can't tell you what It is, but I feel It. I felt it in the park. If felt it at other times . . . but I can't tell you what it is."

Although Rusti's eyes were closed, she thought she could feel Val close to her, bending over to whisper in her ear: "Life force. You are sensitive to it."

The girl's eyes shot open and she caught her breath. But Val was leaning against the wall. One hand was tucked under her arm, her fingers about her chin as though studying Rusti. "Who are you?"

Val relaxed her pose and sat in the nearby chair. "We do not have to wait much longer for Doctor Cynyr. He'll be here shortly."

"It was Freak." Rusti wasn't sure why she said that. But she was a little surprised that the nurse did not seem surprised. "I didn't run away. I ran toward It . . . him.

Val stood, folded her arms and leaned against the exam table. "I hear Optimus Prime is not well."

Rusti's shoulders suddenly fell and her eyes stared at the floor. "I'm afraid for both him and Rodimus. They don't act like themselves anymore."

"It frightens you." Val assumed without asking.

"Yes." Rusti's words came soft and sad. Her memories fell to the darkness of the bubble reality and the monsters therein. "I don't think anybody can do anything."

"Then . . . you will have to protect them, Rusti."

It took a moment for Val's words to register in the girl's head and when she realized what the nurse suggested, she gave the female alien a second glance. "What?" now she felt inclined to laugh. "Me? Pffft! Right. I don't have that kind of power."

"But the Music does." Val's eyes pierced right through the girl, sending chills down Rusti's back. But when she was about to ask another question, the door opened, dispelling the moment. Doctor Cynyr entered with a clipboard in hand and a frown on his face. "Complications?" he asked tersely.

"None at this time, Doctor." Val instantly answered. "We've warmed her up, healed the cracked rib, checked her vitals. Other than lowered body temperature, she seems fine."

"Good. Then she can leave. Now."

Rusti had forgotten all about her rib and wondered why she didn't remember anybody repairing it. Cynyr made her feel like an unwanted puppy. She left the office and no sooner did she step outside than Marissa Fairborn caught her.

Rusti was to taken Magnus' office and he, Kup and Marissa stared at her as though expecting the girl to tell everything from her math homework to her period. She sat on the Major-General's desk, glancing from the Jacki Chan bobble-head to the fish. She felt the Music filter from the walls around them to her body. It breathed for her, watched the world through her eyes. She closed her eyes and shuddered. Why didn't she just run from the scene? That wasn't very smart! But then, she digressed, she hadn't done a lot of smart things lately. Might as well add it to the tab.

Kup's crabby voice broke the silence. His whole demeanor seemed bent like an old woman who just survived a holocaust. His body shell was marred and bandaged with temporary patches. Apparently, Kup just came out of Medical. "Are we going to stand here all day or are you going to say somethin'?"

"I didn't do it." Rusti's little voice barely reached her own ears. "I expected them to kill me but they fell over and died." Then her voice strengthened but she spoke neither her own words, nor her thoughts: "I believe the Matrix was what attacked and killed them."

Magnus's optics flickered with suspicion. "How could you say that?" He snapped, "How could the Matrix kill like that when It's the source of life itself. More than that, how is it that you were there to begin with?"

Absently, Rusti met his optics, but it was the Music that sought him out, the Music that studied him like a schoolboy suspected of cheating on a test. "I have another question for you, Magnus: Why did the Matrix allow Optimus Prime to die fighting Megatron in 2005?"

It wasn't what the three officers were asking. Magnus crossed his arms. "This is our interrogation, young lady. You will answer our questions."

She did not blink:

I'm your dream, Make you real.  
I'm your eyes when you must steal.  
I'm your pain when you can't feel.  
Sad but true.  
Sad but true.

It was from a song she heard a long time ago-a piece from Roddi's personal music collection.

And she thought of Optimus and tears blurred her vision. "Ohmigod. They were going to assassinate him but rather than kill him outright, they scattered him all across the desert. There was nobody to help him as they tore his arms apart and ripped his fingers off one at a time. It was a set-up!" her mere words could not really convey the whole picture. Optimus struggled for thousands of years to stop the war but betrayal by others, their greed and power lust ensured Cybertron would never see the end of war. He never professed to be a savior. He never said he was perfect. They mentally ripped him apart and murdered everyone he cared for. Rusti melted into emotional distress.

Kup's optics narrowed and his frown deepened. "You can't be seriously buying this, Magnus!"

Magnus, who had been around Rusti a great deal more than the security officer, knew otherwise. He grunted. "She's probably suffering from shock. Take her to her quarters. We'll try again later." The two mechs watched as Marissa guided Rusti off the desktop and out the office. Magnus remained stoically silent while Kup shifted his weight one foot to the other.

Finally the security officer sighed. "What's going on, Magnus? Why all the strange events? What's with the moving walls?"

Magnus expected Kup to ask about the flickering images or maybe strange sounds with no detectable sources. He turned to Kup with a tilt of his head. "Moving walls, Kup?"

Roddi arrived at the park half an hour after Magnus returned to oversee the work. Roddi glanced over people's shoulders, nodded, though not really interested then took his time approaching the City Commander. "What uh, what's going on? You guys find dinosaur bones in our back yard or something, Mags?"

If it was a joke, Magnus did not see the humor. "So far Perceptor has concluded three Humans and two Orions were in the area at the time the Chapronites were here. It would seem they were all victims of some kind of energy depletion before their bodies were vaporized." Magnus knew Optimus and Rodimus would ream him later-that security measures were weak, alien and Human visitors and families were unsafe and, oh Primus, what a mess.

Rodimus nodded. "How'd they get past security, Mags?"

"We're looking into that." Magnus answered stiffly.

"Ah. I see. Yes. Don't worry, Magnus. I shall pray for your sinful nature and your imperfect function." And here, Rodimus snuggled a little too closely for Magnus' comfort, "I'll even ask if you can get laid sometime."

The look on Magnus' face would have been comical were they at another place and time. He wasn't sure if he heard Rodimus correctly, or if the statement were serious . . . but then, the City Commander reminded himself, Roddi wasn't acting like himself. "Thank you." he answered uneasily.

Roddi smiled wickedly when he spotted Springer retreating from the site, bearing several digipads in his hands. "Got to go." he whispered to Magnus with a wink. And he was off. The Autobot Second caught up with the wrecker as Springer tucked the digipads into a subspace pocket, preparing to transform to vehicle mode. Roddi slapped an arm across the triple changer's shoulder struts and Springer looked very nervous.

"Springs! Good t' see ya ol' buddy! Howzit hanging?"

It took a moment for Springer to find his voice: "Hi, Roddi. Things 'r great."

"Great! Glad to hear that! You know, I'm planning a private party later next week and I was wondering if you'd like to come and join me and a few personal friends of mine."

Cold surges snaked down the wrecker's backside. Rodimus had invited him to parties on more than one occasion, but usually Rodimus made sure to drop names. So clarification was necessary. "Blaster's . . . in Medbay, Roddi. Maybe you'd better wait."

"Dang. That's right!" But it wasn't a sincere statement; Roddi only pretended to be forgetful. "Well, you and I can pretend, can't we, Springs ol' bean?" Rodimus brought their gait to a halt so he could stare at the triple changer directly in the optics. "See, this is an important thing. I can see straight into your soul, Springer. You could have been great were you not so cocky . . . so arrogant. I could save you from yourself, Springer. I can cleanse that all from you. It's all in the dancing steps, Springer, my friend."

And here Rodimus leaned close to whisper in Springer's audios and Springer thought this must be what it's like to be snake's prey. He thought he could not move. It was like Roddi's very words removed all strength and power from his body.

"Come dance with me, Springer." His whisper was so soft, so pleading. "Dance to death. In death, all things are greater."

If he could have, Springer would have swallowed air. He shuddered. "R-Rodimus . . . uh, that's a nice offer. Maybe, maybe we can-can I take a raincheck on that?" he chuckled nervously. "I have all these reports-" and here he brought the digipads from subspace. "You know how Magnus hates it when I'm late with reports. I'm so bad about deadlines, you know."

Roddi smiled, but it was not a pleasant, easy-going smile. "Oh, the Mags-man! Yes! We mustn't upset him, now must we, Springer? No. He can be worse than Optimus at times."

Springer nodded, silently hoping he could get away.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Better hurry! Run, run, as fast as you can! Pretend you're the gingerbread man!"

Springer almost transformed and sped away but his optics shot wide with fear and startled with memory. Optimus used that same term in a digipad Springer received just that morning. "I-I'll see you later, Roddi." and he almost ran away. He transformed some paces from Rodimus and 'burned rubber'.

Roddi grinned. The Autobots could be so cute and fun at times. Now who was next on his list?

---------------------------------------

Magnus, of course, did not see the transaction between the two. His mind puzzled back and forth between Rusti's odd behavior and the three dead Chapronites. And Rodimus was right; how the 'whatever' did they get through Max's security?

I DO NOT KNOW TO WHAT YOU ARE REFERRING. Max's voice filtered into Magnus' private office as the City Commander paced before his desk.

"Think HARD, Max. This is crucial. If something like this could happen, what else do you think you've been missing? You keep saying you neither see nor hear images and sounds everyone else has." Max fell quiet and Magnus could almost feel the great city thinking. It might be the virus' fault. But that did not make things okay. That did not solve the situation. And Magnus wished every waking moment that Perceptor and First Aid would pipe in and declare they found a cure. But like Optimus Prime answering page calls, they too, remained silent. Magnus leaned against the pane of his southern window overlooking the training grounds. Six Autobot teams were hard at work practicing hand-to-hand combat skills. Cold October rain pounded, testing their cores and wills. The City Commander wondered if the virus was only the beginning of the end for them.

COMMANDER ULTRA MAGNUS?

Magnus turned from his daydream, nearly startled, but his great composure kept him from showing visible signs of such and he stiffened at attention, as automatic a reaction as drawing his weapon. "Max? Continue."

"THERE WAS A MOMENTARY ERROR IN SUBDIRECTORY 08734.D.09-1112973 THETA-29. IT HAS BEEN CORRECTED. THERE WAS A POWER LOSS IN QUADRANT FOURTEEN DUE TO ERROR IN POWER GRID 95 FROM DELTA'S QUARTERS WHEN SHE AND NOSECONE GOT INTO . . ."

Max's voice drifted from Magnus' audios when he realized someone else was in his office. He did not recall holding a meeting. He approached the figure and almost said something when the figure turned, smiled and vanished.

It took Magnus a moment to realize who the figure was.

That was impossible. Elita One had been dead for twenty-five years.

"Commander?"

That did cause Magnus to startle and he glanced away, relieved to remember it was Tempra's voice. "Yes."

Sir, you're wanted at Central Command."

"Something wrong?"

"It sounds like it, sir," Tempra answered.

Magnus nodded. "Max, what's going on?"

OPTIMUS PRIME WILL NOT ANSWER CALLS.

That was it? Magnus grunted and though it was probably no big deal, decided to go anyway. Elita, if she comes back, would have to wait.

Optimus signed off another digipad and set it aside. More and more requests were coming in for Autobot labor of late. Lunarphyte in the Beta Centaurus System was requesting a new space station. Cost was unimportant. Optimus thought about it for a moment, then wrote his agreement code, setting the wheels in motion for a new job for a few Autobots and a great deal of resources. Building space stations was a lot of work, but generally their customers were satisfied.

"Ah, there you are!" The Shadow slipped out of a crack in the wall. Optimus ignored it. It didn't exist.

"Oh, really, now, Optimus! I'm almost ashamed of you! Brushing me off like you would one of your ridiculous Autobots!" It came to him on two legs, though Optimus knew that wasn't its real shape. It had a set of tiny eyelets and its head tapered back to a dull point. It had triple-jointed legs like a satyr and terribly long arms with long fingers extending beyond them. It had a barrel-chest torso and spikes running down its back.

Optimus hated it.

"So what are we doing today? Oh, resetting mission logs. That's good. Boring, but good."

The door chime sounded and Prime was relieved to hear a sound other than the voice in his head. "Enter." He called.

Springer stepped in and handed him a digipad. "You wanted me for something, sir?"

"Oooh!" The figment-creature mocked, "Sir! You know he wants something when he says that!"

"Yes, Springer." Prime found it hard to keep his concentration. "We've received a number of complaints regarding a gang of alien hoodlums terrorizing the neighborhood and killing off local pets. I need you to check it out and report back." Prime handed him another pad and signed Springer's.

The wrecker glanced over the report then pointed at the screen. "This says the aliens are N'lortho. That's one of the guest tribes from the Orizin System."

"Yes."

The Figment glanced from Springer to Optimus and back. "Oh, I say, he's not such a brilliant chap, is he? Have you thought about melting him down and making-"

" . . . to come with me?" Springer and the Figment talked at the same time.

Optimus began to feel annoyed. "I'm sorry, Springer, what was that?"

"Is there someone who's supposed to come with me?"

"Awe! He needs a potty-pal!"

Now Optimus glared at the figment, not at all amused.

Springer watched as Optimus glared to his right, seeing nobody there at all. He knew Optimus was distracted, had been for the last couple of days, but . . . ?

Optimus resumed his conversation. "Do you need me to assign someone to you?"

"No." Springer replied quickly. "No, sir. I-I can handle this." And he turned around, giving Optimus a final glance, then gave the whole room a glance before leaving.

The Figment nodded approving. He sat at the corner of Optimus' desk and examined the claws on his fingers. "Nice chap." He surmised. "Sharp as a bowling ball, but a nice chap. I'm sure he'd be fun to torture."

Prime paid it no mind, trying desperately to concentrate.

The Figment shrugged. "What about Rodimus? He seems to be a nice guy. I'd say kid, but he's not a kid anymore, is he? Something more to him, I'd say, though I really can't put a finger to it, yet. I wonder what it would be like if the two of you were lovers."

Prime slammed his fist on the desktop. "That does it!" He swept up two pads he currently worked on and aimed for the door.

"Where are you going?" the Figment asked innocently.

"To get my head examined!"

The Figment seemed insulted. "I can't let you go."

Optimus kept walking toward the door.

"Did you hear me? I said I can't let you go!" And the Figment's arm stretched out of its body and struck Prime hard enough to send him sliding along the floor. The Figment approached him and Prime forced himself to swallow his fear.

"You are an illusion. You don't exist! You can't exist! No one else sees you!"

"Still trying to rationalize the situation." The Figment spat. "Still trying to keep yourself and all circumstances under logical control. I hate sentient life and its ability to use logic! I hate rationality! I hate all people who live and breathe the stuff! And I hate you most of all because not only are you sentient and rational, you believe in a god!"

It pounced on him like a cat would an injured mouse and steel teeth sank into Prime's shoulder and ripped a piece off. The Figment spat it out and licked a tongue across Optimus' face plates. "I forgot, you have a high pain threshold. Too many years spent in Decepticon torture chambers, no doubt. Right?"

Optimus punched it but could not throw it off. The creature sunk three claws into his chest and snapped apart a hydraulics connector. Prime refused to give it any pleasure. He remained silent. He redirected power from his central systems and shot a bolt of power through his optics. Costly, but effective enough to blind the thing.

The Figment grasped its eyelets and moaned. Prime squirmed away, again heading for the door. But the door turned into a set of huge steel jaws that clamped down. And though Optimus jumped away, his left leg was still caught. He cried out as steel jaws sliced his foot clean off.

Pain shot through him like a poisoned lance and Optimus aimed for his desk. He had a weapon there-one of Kup's security precautions.

The jaws pulled themselves away from the door and reformed into the Figment. It stomped across the office floor and swept up the damaged piece. Then right in front of Prime it devoured his foot. Optimus was horrified. A piece of what was his own body had been eaten! His lasercore vibrated hard against his chest walls and he set the gun on high. The Figment set its hands on the desktop and with one sweep, sent a dozen digipads flying and the computer monitor met its end on the floor. "Don't bother playing hard to get, Optimus Prime. I have you whether you like it or not. You're mine, mind, body and spark."

Prime opened fire on the thing, succeeding only in watching the laser blasts shoot right through the beast. Max set off the intercity alarm, the sound piercing the room. The Figment shrieked and tackled Prime. Optimus fell backwards and slammed his head against the window.

"Let me in!" It shouted. "Let me in! Let me in or I'll make it hurt so badly, you'll wish you were DEAD!"

Optimus rolled on his thorax and tried to crawl away. With one foot gone, he could not possibly run. He managed to gain distance fast enough to pull out his own laser rifle from subspace. "Come no closer!" He shouted.

The creature lifted his terrible long arm and the claws at the end of his fingers stretched and grew and he swung and before Optimus could scamper, the claws fell and sliced his exostructure as though it were tinfoil.

The sudden pain drove deep into his body and Prime could not hold onto his weapon. He looked at his arms and hands as blood leaked all over the carpet; betelling of a life that was nearly over.

Someone pounded on the door, demanding Optimus unlock it. He stared at the Figment, shocked. "I didn't lock the door!"

"I don't want to be interrupted." The Figment cooed. And he leapt again.

Optimus tried to escape, crawling for the little corner Rusti usually would sit in hour after hour. But he found no salvation there. The Figment leapt on him again, scraping his back and legs with its ghastly long claws. Then it bit down on Prime's shoulder again and ripped out another piece. Optimus could not cry out, could not warn Magnus of the danger. The city commander kept shouting his name over and over again.

The Figment bit into his neck, drank some of his life fluids then laid the side of its head against Optimus' audio sensor. "Now, dear Optimus Prime, the game begins. Submit to me, or I will make your life a living hell."

Optimus struggled under its weight a long moment before summoning enough strength to throw it completely off. He found his weapon and fired at it several times, all the while Magnus and a couple of his boys did their damnedest to break the door.

"Is that your answer?" The Figment asked.

Prime only fired again.

"Get that goddamned door open!" Mangus shouted.

"We're trying!" Pipes bit back. "Sir!" He amended. That was when they all heard Optimus fire his own rifle. Magnus nearly panicked and slammed on the door with his fists. "Max!" He called out, "Open this slaggin' door!"

"It's not locked, Ultra Magnus." The city insisted.

Magnus growled and finally pulled out his own weapon and sent several bursts of concentrated ion disruptor waves until the door sizzled and fell apart without explosion. Magnus went in first and stopped so suddenly that Pipes ran into him.

Optimus was bolted upside down across his office window. Magnus simply stood there and stared. There was no one else in the room. No traces of another presence, save for a bloodied carpet, digipads scattered across the room and a damaged monitor. Magnus recovered and pointed to Traffik. "Get First Aid up here. And ask Springer if he can get up here, too. If not, I want Brainstorm on the double. Archer, help me with Optimus."

They had to use an old-styled tool to undo the brackets holding Prime fast to the wall. There was a terrible rent in his shoulder strut and a pool of blood gathered under him.

Magnus was sick.

Rodimus dashed in before Springer and helped hold Optimus while Magnus and Archer undid the rest of the bolts. "What happened?" Rodimus asked sternly.

"We don't know." The City Commander answered. "Maximus broke out into emergency alarms. Traffik, Archer and I dashed up here to ask Prime if everything was alright. We found the room locked. I asked Max to unlock the door, but he insisted it wasn't locked. We kept trying to get Prime to undo it himself. That was when we heard the first laser shot from his own gun. Okay, I'm on the last bolt, here, Rodimus."

"I got him. Did, did he say anything to you about someone trying to attack him?"

Magnus merely grunted a 'no'. They undid the last bolt and the City Commander caught Prime before he collapsed, easing his friend into Rodimus' arms. Roddi managed to lower himself fast enough to break the fall and Optimus laid in his arms until Traffik arrived with First Aid and Apogee.

"I can't believe this is happening." First Aid moaned. He scanned Optimus while Apogee brought in the anti-grav stretcher. He read his scanner and shook his head.

Rodimus did not answer. He held Optimus' hands as he closely examined Prime without moving him. There was a strange brown line around his left foot. "Magnus, look at his leg down there, would you?"

Magnus gave him a puzzled look, but did so just the same.

"What is that?"

"I don't know." The Major-general's face twisted with concern and puzzlement. "Off hand I'd say they were teeth marks."

Rodimus sadly bowed his head, carefully squeezing Optimus' bloodied hands. "Mags, put the city on alert. First Aid?"

The doctor shook his head and tried to reconfigure his scanner. "None of this is registering on my equipment, Rodimus -s-s-s . . . " all five Autobots were suddenly very much aware of a dark presence in the room. Simultaneously they raised their optics to the ceiling where the shadow, shaped like an alien spider, hung upside down. It had four long tapered legs and a triangular head.

Rodimus bowed over, trying to protect Optimus with his body as the nameless, faceless horror stared darkly into his own soul.


	5. Aches and Pains

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 5

Aches and Pains  
We scaled the face of reason  
To find at least one sign  
That would reveal the true dimensions  
Of life lest we forget  
And maybe it's easier to withdraw from life  
With all of it's misery and wretched lies  
Away from harm  
We lay by cool still waters  
And gazed into the sun  
And like the moth's great imperfection  
Succumbed to it's fatal charm  
And maybe it's me who dreams unrequited love  
The victim of fools who watch and stand in line  
Away from harm  
In our vain pursuit of life for one's own end  
Will this crooked path ever cease to end

"Anywhere out of the World"  
Dead Can Dance

DANCE 6

Oh Primus, forgive my failures, my arrogance and fears.  
I am dismayed, hopeless and faithless.  
Yet I know my distress is not unknown to you.  
My suffering is not veiled before your all-seeing optics.  
Look at my tattered soul and relegate your kindness to me.  
Shower your graces over me that I may stand again and work for your people!  
See? My soul bleeds. See?  
There is no peace in my heart, no soundness in my body.  
Day after day my enemies snarl at my weakness.  
They rejoice in my failures.  
As I fall they laugh and tell their companions, "Look! How the great have fallen!  
For he too is frail.' 'Who shall save us now? Perhaps the Decepticons?"  
Oh Primus, you know there will be no other children.  
My people are dying and surely you will show us a better way, a drier road!  
Touch me, my lord, that I may yet remain and care for your people, else they be lost!  
If not I, if it be time for me to leave, then I pray you strengthen Rodimus.  
Give him the courage and the strength to bear this terrible weight you have laid on me.  
Hear me, Oh Primus, Father of my people!  
For I am faint in soul.  
The Darkness feeds on me and I cannot cry to another.  
You and you alone can be my savior.

But Optimus received no answer.

The Autobot leader slowly activated his optics. Pain caressed him like a bladed brush. He caught breath when pain spiked up his chest. Sorrow flooded his heart and he longed to crawl away, hoping he'd die, gone and forgotten.

"Shhhhh."

Nothing could comfort him. Everything he loved in life was gone. Dead. And he lived on. All for what? To lead a dying people into war so they could be slaughtered, too?

"Optimus . . ." It was Rodimus' voice. It was Rodimus who called him. It was Rodimus who was the rightful leader. So what was he doing still leading the Autobots? Oh, that's right. The Matrix derived some perverse pleasure out of tormenting him.

"Prime."

Now he realized he was not alone and found Rodimus sitting next to him. The Second took his hand and gently squeezed it. "Hey, are you with me this time?"

"Rusti . . ." How's that? Here he was thinking of the Matrix, but his voice spoke of Rusti? Why?

"She's fine, just shaken a little. Magnus tried to find out exactly what happened at the park . . . "

Roddi's voice faded a moment. Optimus did not know what he was talking about. What was so significant about the park? Which park? He struggled to clear his head but seemingly to no desired result. He caught one word, at least: "Freak?"

"Yeah, that . . . al-d'shoonee? I didn't know or believe it either until Magnus told me."

"What?" Fragmentation set in and Prime wanted to sleep. "What happened to me?"

Rodimus' whole frame slumped. His lip components lined straight and he absently traced the Autobot insignia on Prime's shoulder. "We . . . we found you in your office. Someone or something attacked you. You've been talking in your sleep."

Prime only stared at him in shock. Rodimus took a quick glance over his shoulder strut then leaned closer to whisper. "Prime, did you, uhm, did you notice a shadow in the Matrix, or in your dreams? Maybe a gigantic set of steel teeth that appear from nowhere?"

At first, Optimus tried to figure out what Rodimus was talking about. But a shadow slipped behind Rodimus. A shadow that cast another shadow against the wall. It was huge, its form took up the whole room. It had a chest piece and thorax that curved into a tail. Its diamond-shaped head swept back into a fine point and it walked on tapered, needle-point legs.

Optimus gasped and would have jumped right out of his exostructure. It was searching for him.

He gripped Rodimus as the room and everything in it faded from sight. "Rodimus!" He gasped. Then Optimus fainted.

Roddi sprang to his feet, dashed to the door and screamed First Aid's name. He turned back to Optimus and spotted the very creature, just scarcely outlined. He watched in wordless horror as it leapt into Prime's body.

And Optimus flatlined.

Strange noises roused Rusti from sleep. She moaned, tossed and tried to go back to dreams but the noise persisted. Darn it, were they doing outside repairs AGAIN? Irritated, she groaned and sat up. Her head and neck ached and her stomach burned. She hoped - ohmigod! It was Monday! And clearly she had slept in! She glanced to her clock and sure enough, it was ten o'clock. The clouds crowded the sky outside and Fort Max went about its daytime business, much as it always did. The girl cursed in English, then cursed again in Autobot. How irresponsible! She pushed herself out of bed and rummaged her dresser for something warm. The school wasn't going to be kind to her for sleeping in.

Rusti chose a pair of dark blue tapered jeans and a lavender pocket shirt with a tail that dropped mid-thigh. She plucked out a fresh pair of panties and a lacy light blue bra.

Oh, where were her shoes?

She folded her clothes on the toilet seat, turned the shower on and glanced about for her pumps. They must have been kicked off last night; she didn't think to put them away. She got down on hands and knees and peeked under her bed.

Nothing.

Were they by the dresser?

No.

Closet?

No.

Dammit! Where DID she put those damned things? She stood, hands on hips, face contorted with puzzlement.

Oh. Waitaminute, maybe they were lying under her homework (which didn't get done). Rusti turned toward her oak chest and nearly ran into someone. She squeaked, hand on chest and about jumped out of her way.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in!" she grinned, thinking the figure was Aunt Missy, coming in to tell her she was late to class. But upon realizing it was NOT Marissa, the girl's eyes shot wide.

It was her grandfather Spike.

He looked very much the same way his photographs portrayed him; an elderly man with silver hair and a square-jawed, stern face with a gentle light shining in his eyes. He wore the same ambassadorial apparel he had on the day he was killed.

Rusti backed from him, words caught hard in her throat and she choked, unable to breathe. "G-grandpa?"

He lipped unheard words, talking but said nothing directly to her. Rusti trembled, her heart pounded against her chest. Movement caught her attention from the image and she watched as the wall behind her bed shifted and swirled. She glance at Spike again but did not see him there. Rusti's knees turned to rubber and she had to sit down. Her skin ran cold and her mind raced back to the bubble reality.

Something luminescent fell to the floor. Rusti didn't want to see it. She pretended she saw nothing. How was it that she saw her grandfather! He'd been dead for ten years! Another drop of light fell from the ceiling. No, the girl reasoned, she didn't see that either.

But rather than going away, the two 'luminescence's' remained lit on the floor.

"Please go away!" Rusti shouted to no one. But it was not happening. She breathed heavily as though someone were pressing tightly against her chest. Anger welled in her and the girl suddenly had the urge to tear something apart. "GO AWAY," She growled between her teeth.

Another bit of light dripped from the ceiling and Rusti snapped. She jumped to her feet, grabbed the nearest breakable object (her lamp) and shattered it against the wall. What large pieces did not break, she swept up from the carpet and smashed into smaller particles. A line of light zipped along the border of a metal plate on the wall. It shot up, then over. Rusti grabbed her jewelry box and with all her might, slammed it into the wall. "LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!" Bits of wood and earrings, bracelets, rings and necklaces flew in every direction. The light died, leaving the girl heaving.

Someone buzzed her door and Lug, Hosehead's Headmaster companion, called: "Are you alright, there, young lady?"

Rusti's eyes blazed and she swished open her door, staring daggers into his face. "WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!" she shouted, "CAN'T YOU SEE I'M BUSY?"

The door closed between them and Lug stood there, a little stunned to see the Witwicky girl act so out of character. Then a face pressed itself out of the door's surface; a face that looked frighteningly like Huffer's. The face yawned in a terrible scream, though no sound came from it. The face sank back into the metal of the door, leaving Lug shuddering.

Rusti ran her fingers through her hair. She felt an excessive amount of energy coursing through her body. She shuddered and drew a deep breath, feeling the air fill her lungs and the shudders made the hair on her arms stand on end. She lifted her face to the ceiling, eyes closed. Primus help her if she had to go to school like this! It was one thing to be 'jazzed', quite another to be a little more than off-kilter with the rest of the planet. Maybe it was just PMS. Roddi always teased her of her shorter temper when she'd suffer through it. Of course, as clueless as he was, he had no right to point and laugh. The little (?) red and orange bastard didn't know what it was like to suffer from cold sweat, cramps, headaches and water retention (her pants were always too tight!). He never craved chocolate a day in his stupid ignorant little life.

Jerk.

Rusti opened her eyes. If this was PMS, it was the worse case she'd ever had. She sought the lighted ceiling as though looking to God for authorization for being so obnoxious. She watched in shock as the light above her liquefied and dripped a though it were water. The drop, bright luminescent, fell to the little puddle forming in the middle of her floor.

Chills ran down the girl's backside and she approached the puddle of light. That's not even remotely possible! That sorta breaks all the laws of physics, and then some! She scrutinized it for several minutes, struggling to make sense of the phenomena before daring to touch it.

The puddle of light was cool to the touch and acted just like water. It smeared over her fingers like blood, illuminating her hand and face.

"Max?" she called. "Max, are you there?"

I AM ALWAYS HERE, MISS RUSTI.

"Max, would you turn out the lights for me, please?" The next second, the lights died, leaving Rusti alone in the center of her room. The puddle of light still shined before her. She settled down, crossing her legs and stared at the smeared light in her hand. She felt warm all inside, now, no longer afraid.

"This little light of mine . . . I'm gonna let it shine." She sang softly, staring and staring, not caring the day wore on without her while First Aid rushed to save Optimus' life.

---------------------------------------

In one hour, Magnus encountered thirty-five reports from all over the city regarding strangers walking roads, heedless of traffic, (often causing accidents) and then disappear entirely. People declared they heard voices from the walls and saw shadows where there should be no shadows at all. What disturbed the Major-general most came from Upper Level: the space dock and how Kup said the walls in hanger numbers 23 and 472 caught on fire then bled as though wounded. He glanced at the three digipads in his hands again; reports that were supposed to go to Optimus Prime, but had to be directed to him instead.

One such report informed him how the clouds above Fort Max and Central City 'acted strangely', racing at impossible speeds. Another report declared Fort Horizon's metal panels were cracking and bleeding human blood.

At Metroplex, all voluntary functions went off line. Doors and elevators jammed and ground-to-air communications failed. In Fort Sonix, all written communications turned to gibberish while back at Central City, street lights dribbled dark blue blood.

The City Commander put off most appointments and sent all his paperwork to an embittered Strike Back. Magnus said nothing regarding Prime's disciplinary action, but he felt what Optimus did was more than fair; in fact, Optimus went a lot easier on Strike than he would have himself. But that was Optimus; the parental type as opposed to an authoritarian military commander. Magnus leafed through one then two and later six new reports, all hastily sketched on digipads. The walls outside Fort Max himself were acting . . . insubstantial, as though more of water than solid metal. Magnus wanted to check the phenomena himself, but he dared go nowhere while Optimus was in medical.

Finding Prime nailed to his office window terrified the Major-general badly enough but seeing that . . . creature dangling from the ceiling still sent chilling surges up and down Magnus' infrastructural rod.

He turned from Fido, his fish, to his desk, still mulling when he realized he was not alone. He startled, half expecting Rodimus to be sitting in his chair, grinning audio to audio. But it was not Rodimus that sat there.

Ultra Magnus stared, completely at a loss for words. The figure was a darker, far older version of himself; the colors all wrong, all . . . rotting away as though organic. A peeling Decepticon insignia patched the area where there should have been the Autobot brand. The figment (or so he hoped) moved its lip components, but no sound came forth. The Major-general softly told himself it was not real, that he was just overly tired and worried for Optimus Prime.

"YOU COMMAND BUT HOLD NOT THE MATRIX." The figment's mouth did not move, but sound came from its direction. The voice, both female and male, echoed as though from a distance.

Magnus dropped the digipads and stepped away. He struggled against fear. "Who are you?" he asked guardedly.

"THEY. GAVE US. NO NAME." The echoes slurred slow in a monotone and rhythmic stanza.

Surges ran through Magnus' frame and he ordered himself to remain calm. He still struggled to keep from breathing: "What are you?" He shouted so that some part of himself believed he was in control of the situation.

"NOT FROM HERE." His other self stood, piercing Magnus with a demanding gaze. The echoing voice modulated again, the words sounding more slurred: "GIVE US YOUR SOUL."

Magnus bolted for the door.

Rodimus stood aside, stricken with worry while First Aid and his assistants tried to revive their leader. They resorted to electric shock and kept at it until Apogee laid a hand on him, silently telling Aid to just stop.

Rodimus lost his breath. He couldn't do anything more than just stare. It wasn't true! It could not BE true! Optimus wasn't dead! Not like that! First Aid looked at him, but Rodimus couldn't return the gaze. He couldn't look at anybody, do or say anything.

Then the life monitor bleeped once. Apogee gasped.

Another bleep.

"Oh, Primus!" She swore, "What's going on? He was dead!"

Rodimus thoughtlessly pushed her away and gripped Prime's hands. "Come on, Optimus!" He begged. "Fight!"

IF I DROPPED YOU FROM HERE, COULD YOU FLY?

Non

Linear

existence.

"Have you forgotten, Prime that I created you?" Trion glared at him as the two rode atop the triple-changer tank, Flatliner, down the center street way of Iacon. On either side of them, a throng of Autobots cheered their new army, now commissioned by the Council of Elders. Optimus gazed at the crowds. Autobots, great and small from every city and suburb gathered for the procession and the Council basked in the glory of the moment.

But he did not enjoy it. Optimus wanted to shy away. This was not what they should be doing. Trion waved to his people, bowed and accepted gifts tossed to him. A femme dashed to the tank and Trion bent over to accept a kiss.

Beside the Autobot Elder, a cloud appeared. It sparked and glowed in a soft luminescence. WHAT'S THE MATTER, CHOSEN? CARE YOU NOT FOR THE PEOPLE?

"It's not right." He replied. They're trying to prove their worth and might by a flash-and-dance show."

YES. NOT SO WISE, IS IT?

"What am I to do?"

"What am I to do?" he repeated mournfully.

"Shhh." Rodimus' voice was the only thing that made any sound in the stillness of the room. First Aid injected Optimus with a stimulant and waited.

Optimus came back once again with a sadness that burdened his heart so that he wished he had not awakened. Shame and guilt clouded over and he wanted to hide from everyone's stares.

Rodimus did not understand this reaction. Usually Optimus would ask questions and repeat some of them, just to make sure he understood what had happened. But he did nothing of the sort. He tried to look away. Rodimus gazed at the doctor. "First Aid, can you give us a few minutes?"

First Aid glanced from one Autobot leader to the next, shrugged and left the bedside.

Rodimus waited until the room was empty then sat beside his friend. He waited for several long beats, hoping Optimus would open up. But Prime remained painfully silent. "Optimus." He whispered. Optimus, talk to me. What happened? What's wrong?"

Prime knew he could not keep silent. Rodimus would pursue until he got answers. "I was witness to the death of hundreds. Now I am paying the price for my inaction."

Rodimus' whole face contorted with confusion. "What?"

Optimus' head cleared a little more and some sadness lifted. He realized he lay on a flat, stashed away in some part of Medical. Possibly one of the emergency rooms. He finally looked to his Second. "Something dragged me away, Rodimus. Something's . . . hunting me. In my dreams or something. I keep-"

"Having flash-visions, huh?" Rodimus answered for him. "Different things, usually, right? But sometimes there's this café? on an organic world, something resembling England in the 1800's. Right?"

"You were there." Optimus confirmed.

"So were you." Rodimus nodded. "And there was a waitress, a Human female. And you keep reminding me it's the Matrix, but you don't tell me directly. What's it mean?" Roddi felt better now that he was able to get Optimus to talk a little more openly; a rare occasion.

The Senior Prime thought for a long moment, his optics studied the pictureless wall ahead then he turned to Roddi. I think the Matrix is using us to try to understand what is happening to it."

"Really? I've never heard it do that before."

Prime nodded. "Yes. The Matrix uses other people's experience to figure things out. But apparently neither you nor I have the experience to draw from, so It has to explore."

Rodimus stared at him in surprise. "But . . . Optimus, you flatlined."

The word shook him cold. "What?"

"You . . . you were dead."

"No, you said I flatlined?"

Rodimus merely nodded.

Prime looked away, obviously confused. "It's mixing actual events with current situations."

"What?"

"There was an event that took place shortly after I was Chosen. The Counsel of Elders took me as a sign from Primus and decided to make a move against the Decepticons. They believed the Matrix would give them enough power to overcome Straxus' tyranny and overwhelm Megatron and his army. All they needed was an army of their own. So they put together a draft and spent three cycles training their recruits. So certain of success were they, they paraded the troops and weapons down the main street of Iacon." Suddenly Optimus stopped. He dared say nothing more; nothing about Alpha Trion. He fell silent.

"Then what?" Rodimus egged on. But Optimus turned from him. "What? Optimus, tell me!"

"The troops were decimated, Rodimus. Not one of them lived to see Iacon again."

Rodimus stared at him, annoyed and disappointed. He was left out. Once again, Optimus clammed up on something. He was silent for too long; Optimus had more to say but decided not to share. Rodimus decided it was not time to be stern. "Okay." He accepted, "So where does the word 'flatlined' come in?"

". . . they showcased me riding on top of a triple changer tank named Flatliner. But . . . Roddi, I don't think that was his real name."

Rodimus smiled ruefully. "When I went into the Matrix for the first time, Springer and Arcee thought I died. It could be that there is a level of consciousness that tends to mix present reality with memory. And perhaps you were just caught up in it."

He watched Optimus stare at him and just for a fleeting second, Rodimus thought he saw a four-legged spider's shadow cross Optimus' optics. He quenched the desire to shudder. "Or maybe not." He recalled the thing he thought he saw leap into Optimus' body. He wanted to ask about it, but Rodimus did not know how to ask without either getting personal, or sounding like an idiot. He let the whole matter drop. "Well, you get some rest. I have things to do." He opened the door and took a final look back, finding Optimus staring out the window. The room fell awkwardly quiet.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 7

Rusti was back at the little café, wearing her favorite jeans and sweater with a long teal blue cloak and hood. A shapely Autobot waitress approached her tightly clutching a digipad in her arms. "One?"

She glanced around and realized where she was. She didn't belong here. Annoyed, she turned to the waitress, "I'm supposed to be in school. Why do you keep bringing me here? Do I look like an Autobot Prime to you?"

To their right, several tables of females sat and chattered and giggled. Rusti nodded her head toward them. "Who are they?"

"Candidates."

"Candid-what? For what?"

"Why don't you ask them?"

Rusti watched the waitress leave then slowly made her way to the group of silly female Autobots. One or two of them looked strangely familiar, but the girl could not tell why.

"Hi." A pink femme greeted. She had striking blue optics and a lyrical voice. Her helm was swept back into a short point, assuming some kind of fashionable wear. Rusti could not tell what she transformed into. "My name is Aerial. What's yours?"

"Rusti."

"A strange name. What language is that?"

"American."

"Do you have an Autobot name, Rusti?"

"Yes. What's going on here? What's with all the girls?"

"Memories."

"Memories? Of what?"

"Different existences. That's Rodina, there. And that's Ricochet, Arcee and Lancer."

"What do they represent as existences? I don't understand."

"Realities, Rusti Witwicky. Each of the girls here represent a different reality. The Matrix is aware of them all."

"Okay. Conversing in circular reasoning. Why is the Matrix behaving so oddly?"

Aerial stared at her solemnly but did not speak with her own voice. "SOMETHING'S WRONG. THE PROTECTION GENESIS IS DAMAGED. WE WILL LOSE EVERYTHING ORDAINED. CAN YOU SEE THAT, HUMAN?"

Aerial's face melted, leaving naught but a computer simulated cross-frame. The café disappeared, but the table remained. Rusti withdrew, fearing something might suck her into some kind of void.

"I CAN NO LONGER PROTECT THEM, HUMAN. FUNCTIONAL SHUTDOWN WILL COMMENCE."

---------------------------------------

Roddi didn't know how much paint the project needed, but he supposed it would require little more than what one order would supply. He had to be ever so cautious about this; Magnus mustn't know. After all, the Big Boy had his hands full elsewhere. So the Z'Taxan traders, who owed him more than one favor, finally 'paid up' and supplied him with all the art equipment he needed. After all, if a mech is supposed to redecorate the house, a fresh coat of paint was necessary. And necessary it was, too. Candles and decorations and the indoor water fountain he built last week all kinda gave the ol' place a better feel; not quite so sterile. In fact, Roddi's quarters seemed to take on a more, er, what's a good way to put it? . . . 'primitive'? Yes, that was it, a far more primitive atmosphere.

Metallica vibrated the walls in his new pad. The music coursed through his body as the paint brush lined down one direction then curved. Oh, paint felt good, smooth, like smearing bits of his soul along the walls. Marking his territory.

Yup.

He stepped back from his 'masterpiece' for a broader view. It was violent in color, abstract in form and still very wet. What it was, even Roddi could not tell, but it was perfect. A great maw filled with teeth resembling tortured souls, maybe it was. He'd been there once. He cut out its tongue, that's why it did not have one.

"I'm your dream . . . I'm your eyes . . .I'm your pain . . . you know it's sad but true!"

The song rolled over and over in his mind.

Clank, clank, clank.

Hark! What be that? Rodimus lowered his paint brush and stared at the door. Was someone there? He waited and stared. The music beckoned him to return to the work at hand. Come on, he thought, I dare you to sound again. I dare you to tear me from this work. Come on, Bastard of Unknown, KNOCK!

Clank, clank, clank. "Rodimus? Are you there? We need to talk."

For a fleeting moment, Rodimus was infuriated beyond words. He bared something hideous and ugly from his mouth and had anyone seen it, they would have coward in fear and horror. It was not a natural thing for a Transformer by any standards. But the very next moment, Rodimus pulled on a happy face and turned the music down. There was no need to be upset. After all, it was the Big Guy and he deserved some measure of um . . . well, civility, if not respect.

Rodimus opened the door and sure enough, it was the Major-General, looking concerned and confused. "Mags!" he nearly sang. "What as pleasant a surprise as driving down the New Mexican interstate highway in the middle of the night and getting abducted by aliens! What's up there, Big Guy?"

It wasn't exactly the kind of response Magnus was hoping for. Not that the greeting was all that unusual for Rodimus, but . . . sheesh. "Erm, Rodimus, I'd just like to talk with you for a couple of moments, nothing drastic, I thought . . . I thought we'd catch up on a few things, that's all. Do you have . . ." his optics caught just a sliver of Roddi's quarters through the crack in the opened door. The room was bathed in candle light, the walls dripped in wet paint. The furniture was twisted in bizarre shapes and metal plates covered the windows. Magnus tried to retain what composure he had left. "I was wondering if um, you had a couple of moments."

Roddi brightened. "A yak-session, Mags? Well ANYTHING for 'you'!" he slipped out and closed the door behind him. "Shall we?" and he ushered Magnus to walk down the corridor with him. They turned right and slipped outside to a large patio overlooking the western part of the city. It was not often Magnus ventured to Roddi's own quarters in the Communications District; it made him uncomfortable. But then, at this point, many things made him uncomfortable.

"What's on yer mind, Mags?" Rodimus hopped up on a banister between two large plants and grinned ridiculously. "Or rather, 'in' it."

"Optimus." Magnus managed to slip into business mode and felt safer. "It's been reported that he flat-"

"Yes, he flatlined. I'm surprised you didn't hear about it sooner." Rodimus' gaze lifted to the sky where dark clouds brooded along the late afternoon skyline. Something told him a storm was coming in. Not so surprising for November.

"I did." Magnus answered evenly. "I was notified immediately. But I could do nothing about it at the moment. I've had other matters to attend. But what I thought I'd do is discuss emergency plans with you. If Optimus . . . departs . . . what steps do you think we should take to keep things moving smoothly?" Magnus' laser core skipped several vibrations when Rodimus stared at him like a menacing gargoyle.

"Are you expecting him to die, Magnus?" Roddi's voice turned flat, serious, almost dangerous.

"I don't want him to leave, Rodimus-"

"Well, of course you don't." the Second retorted. "You can't eat someone if they're dead." Magnus visibly flinched. And that made Rodimus smile evilly. "What's that, Magnus? Surprised I know all about your little plans? I know what you intend to do. Oh, yes, I've known about it for several days. I know how you plan to slice Optimus up and eat the upper half of his body first. I wanted to ask you not to do it earlier, but I've been busy redecorating my quarters."

Magnus' mind reeled in shock and the only word he could get out was: "What?"

"YOU!" Rodimus slipped off the banister and pushed himself into Magnus' space. "I know all your dirty little thoughts, Magnus. I know what sin holds you to this life! I'm not stupid like the rest of the little g'gk who think they're so much better than we because they live little insignificant lives, doing what they're told just enough to get by and when the day is over, they go and party their brains to fragments! STUPID, IGNORANT LITTLE RUST BITS who deserved to REMAIN slaves-and YOU! You ENCOURAGE them to follow the pied piper down the road to immanent destruction!"

Rodimus had forced Magnus to walk backwards into the corridor. Magnus had no words to describe the shock holding him in dire silence. But whatever words that might have left his lip components, died a still birth for the walls themselves now twisted as he retreated from Rodimus who kept advancing . . . a terrible light flickered in the Autobot leader's optics.

"All of you little life forms," Roddi's voice echoed with a double voice, now, one that was not even his. "All of you must realize that your sinful lives must be cleansed, just as they had to be cleansed at the beginning when life was fresh and new on Cybertron. If you want salvation, you must pay for it. Primus will not forgive you, just as he did not forgive me, just as he did not forgive Optimus." Then Rodimus stopped advancing, though Magnus kept backing away. The walls bulged and protrusions extended like creatures reaching to praise their new . . . god? And the protrusions reshaped themselves into faces with lip components that spoke without voices. And in the center of it all, in the midst of the eerie scene, Rodimus smiled almost sadly. "The Matrix is angry, Magnus."

Magnus retreated and did not speak with Rodimus again.

---------------------------------------

Something tapped at her window. Rusti sighed in her sleep thinking it was just a part of her dream. Another tapping tried her attention and she moaned. If this was a joke or those idiot Paratrons trying to do patchwork on the wall again, she was going to hurt someone.

Right. Miss rough, tuff, cream puff. Roddi would laugh at that one and Rusti decided not to tell him that.

The tapping persisted, this time a little more urgently. She sighed and got up to check the window overlooking the roadside leading from Central Command. A face loomed right at her and she shrieked, frightened. A pair of blue optics, at first mean, wilted to a plea. Rusti undid the latch and the window slid up. She caught her breath when she realized who it was.

"Optimus!" She swallowed air. "No! What the hell are you doing here!"

"Hiding. May I come in?" She froze, unsure whether or not she was dreaming. "Please?" he begged. "I do not want to be out here all night."

She withdrew in silent permission and with just a push on either side of the window frame, that part of the building unlatched itself, folded back and slid apart to allow him entrance. Rusti's eyes grew. Optimus did not have to ask Max to do a thing; the building just sorta parted for him. Prime easily slipped in and the wall folded back together, neat and seamless.

He crawled on hands and knees toward the entrance of her room before sitting down, hunched over as though fearful someone were going to find him out. He stared at her innocently for a moment then folded his legs.

"I'm sorry, Rusti." he said softly. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Rusti crossed her arms. "Optimus, it is three in the morning. What are you doing here, and why aren't you still in medical? Did they discharge you? And why the hell didn't you just come through the front door? What's going on?"

"Shhhh." Prime held his finger to his face plate and glanced over his shoulder then turned back to the girl. "They didn't discharge me. I woke realizing I was better. I was not dying. I came here because I left without authorization."

She batted her eyes in disbelief. "You snuck out of Medical? Wouldn't Max warn them?"

"Max?"

"THE CITY?" Rusti stressed without raising her voice.

"No. Max really can't register me. I don't think he knows I exist."

"Okay, I won't take the conversation in that direction. But why, Optimus, did you just crawl through my window? Why not go back to your quarters?"

Prime tilted his head, a bit perplexed. "I have quarters?"

Rusti, strangely enough, was losing her patience. "Are you epileptic? Yes, you have quarters and they're a little bit larger than this room. And I can't believe you'd sneak about the city as if you were afraid they'd send you to the brig for leaving medical."

"Well . . . First Aid . . . I thought he was going to tie me down and I believed if I came here, you'd not let them do that to me. You wouldn't, would you, Rusti?"

She moistened her lips, unsure why they were having this weird conversation. Some part of her was still in slumberland and maybe that's why she sounded awkward even to herself. The girl sat on her bed, eyes fixed sternly at the towering giant before her and wondered why he came to her place, of all places to go. If Optimus REALLY wanted to hide, he should go to his garden. "Optimus," she said softly, but firmly, "Two days ago I had Grandpa Spike here in my quarters. I've seen the walls flicker and the lights above me dripped like water. Yesterday, while I was at school, I watched the mirrors in the girl's bathroom grow dark and dark weird shapes pounded on the other side of the glass as though they were imprisoned and couldn't get out. That was weird enough, okay? But YOU, Optimus, should know better than to go AWOL FROM MEDICAL!"

He slumped like a puppy told it was bad and he tilted his head left to right, optics glued to the floor. "I know I'm evil, Rusti. I know I should not do things that I do."

The stirring anger dissipated and Rusti frowned to herself. Optimus did not take reprimands very well-at least, reprimands from her. "You're not evil, Optimus." she answered softly. You have needs just like everyone else."

"I am not supposed to have needs. I am programmed to care for the Autobots. But sometimes I blunder and forget. Then I get selfish and think only of myself."

Sleep forgotten, Rusti looked puzzled and brought her legs under her. "Why is that evil? I thought you were a person, not a laptop."

He met her eyes and Rusti swore with her whole life that she thought she saw water brimming at the bottom of those optics. But that was not possible. Autobots-robots-don't shed tears. "Personal needs are a distraction. To need is to be distracted from my obligations."

He fell quiet and she searched for something to say, but she, a mere sixteen year-old, who was lucky if she even kissed once, had none of the vast experience Optimus Prime had. She was, in his frame of reference, still a baby. "But, not to need, Optimus, makes you less . . . sentient. If you don't have needs, you can't be a real person. Only living things have needs. Machines . . . they just work. If they break down, you fix them. But they don't need companionship or loyalty or . . . or love. Even you, as great and powerful as you are, even you can't live without love, Optimus. We were built-" Rusti almost swallowed that term. "-we were built to care for and need each other. Why is it wrong for you to need others? Why is it wrong to be distracted?" He looked so sad Rusti felt that grief.

"I am a tool, Rusti. I am the Hand of Primus, created to care for the Autobots. But I have failed."

Her heart went to him and she wished she could wrap her arms about him and physically reassure him; dammit, sometimes words just weren't enough! "You didn't fail, Optimus. You are sick, but you did not fail."

Again the silence came long and loud before Optimus drew breath, "If I die before I wake, I pray my soul doesn't break."

Rusti wanted to say something, but never got the chance. Someone buzzed her door and Optimus nearly panicked. _Shhhh! Just let me handle it!_ she ordered mentally. The poor guy scrunched his frame into the corner and had things been a little different, Rusti would have thought it funny.

She tried to mess up her curly red hair and pretended to be half asleep. She opened the door, half closing her eyes and frowned at the two EDC officers and Paratron recruit Trixy. "What?" Rusti tried to look innocent and cross at the same time. She never tried acting before and hoped she could pull it off.

"Sorry to wake you, Miss Witwicky," one fellow, Officer Norks apologized. "We're looking for Optimus Prime. He's disappeared from medical. We're looking for him."

Rusti struggled to lift one brow without success. "Really? What the hell would he be doing here? And why are YOU here? I'm a teenager. I go to school. It's two in the morning."

"It's three in the morning, ma'am." the flunkey corrected.

Rusti glared daggers at all three. "I'm trying to sleep. Go look elsewhere." And she turned away, closing the door without another word. Once back in her room, the girl allowed herself a smile. That wasn't so hard, and they bought it. She glanced back at the corner and found Prime slumped against the wall, optics off as he slept. She stared, wondering what exactly he was after. Maybe it wasn't that he was running from Medical so much as he just needed to be with someone. She bounced back into bed, wishing she had a blanket large enough to cover him. "Good night, Optimus." she whispered.

---------------------------------------

Rodimus heard about Optimus' disappearance but did not believe the idiotic reports that he might have left the city. Just because Kup's pathetic security goons couldn't find an Autobot who knew the city better than his own face plates did not mean Optimus had left Fort Max entirely. Naturally, everyone checked Prime's office nine and ten times but Roddi knew better than that; the last place Op would go was his office; what with all those stupid pads laying on his desk like a multitude of starving slargs waiting for scraps.

And naturally, many of Kup's little 'hounds' headed to the topmost floor where most of Optimus' garden yet stood. Naturally, the Paratrons tried to replace those plants that disappeared during the time fracture, but . . . well, with his being ill, Optimus might not have had time to tend to them and maybe the Paratrons tampered with some of Op's own tampering of the building structure. Which, naturally, might mean that Optimus had time in the night to tamper with the structure and find a place to hide from Kup, scanners or not. Well, Roddi was pretty sure if he could do what he did to his quarters, chances were Optimus might have done the same with the garden.

Something like that.

Roddi climbed the stairwell to the topmost floor. He knew that A.) Using the elevator might tip the Senior Prime that someone was coming and B.) Most security officers wouldn't think of using the stairs or that the stairs might most likely lead to a different part of the garden. So he trudged up two flights of stairs before reaching the topmost floor of the garden.

And, naturally, Rodimus Prime was right on two accounts: the stairwell led to a different part of the garden and Optimus had already been here, rearranging the structural layout.

"Should have locked the door."

The Senior Prime's dead quiet voice still startled the Second and he turned with a grin. He was right on three accounts, not just two. "Hiya, Oppy. Came t' see what yer up to. I guess Kup's little doggies kinda missed this spot this morning, eh?"

"No, they were here. They had their little friends and their toys with them." Optimus silently pointed to three upturned and damaged plants. "I took Rusti to school, knowing they'd be here."

Rodimus couldn't help but laugh. Optimus 'did' leave the city without anyone knowing about it! Roddi took liberty of a nearby stepping stool and sat at the top end. He watched Prime pick up one plant then another and threw one out, repotting the other two. "So what's on the agenda today, Boss? What do we get to do? And why did you leave Medical?"

"Rusti already asked me that last question, Rodimus. Only one answer per customer." Prime's voice remained level, calm.

"Whoa!" Rodimus held his hands out as though to ward off someone's temper. "Alright. Sounds fair. How about answering my first question?"

"Today . . . I have no plans."

Rodimus shook his head, his face a bit neutral. "No digipads, no meetings, no errands or personal stuff?"

"I'm certain there's something to do." Prime set a broken planter in the trash can. "I just don't feel like it."

Rodimus nodded approvingly. "That works for me. Everybody needs a Sunday off now and again. Of course, for you, two or THREE Sundays might be better." He earned a stare from Prime and waited for Optimus to say something but the elder Prime did not. "What?" he urged.

"I was just thinking of those Sunday drives with Rusti. What day is it, anyway?"

"Hmm. I dunno. Lost count myself. Wednesday or Thursday, I think."

"Middle of the week." Optimus grumped, clearly unhappy. He turned away and started unwinding the water hose.

Rodimus watched him a moment before deciding to ask: "You know, Op, I'm planning a party here in the next couple of days. I thought I'd ask if you'd like to come. I've got a whole gaggle of goof-offs attending. In fact, I already have several RSVP's answered."

"I appreciate the invitation, Rodimus, but I am not the partying type, never have been. Crowds and noise make me uncomfortable. You know that." Prime watered the back row of large purple and red-leafed plants.

Disappointment colored Rodimus' expression. "Is there anything that will permeate that impervious puss of yours, Prime?"

To Roddi's surprise, Optimus gazed at him from over his shoulder. "There is one thing, but I'm not telling 'you'."

It was a tease and it lifted Rodimus' countenance into a grin. But as distracted as Rodimus was at the moment, he didn't bother to consider what it might be. Instead, his thoughts wandered back to the beginning of their conversation: "You know, Optimus, since Mags is doing your work for you, you should just kidnap Rusti from school, take the day off, go someplace nobody would find you. Better make sure you pack her a sack lunch, though. You'll never hear the end of it."

Optimus did not answer right away. He reached around Rodimus to a tree and checked its soil for water level and temperature. "Kidnap Rusti?" Their optics were merely inches apart and Optimus thought he could look straight into Roddi's soul. There lay something sinister there and he found he did not like how Roddi referred to Rusti as though she were simply a play-thing. Would he have to vie with him for her?

"You know," Rodimus whispered in his audio, "you and I are the only two of our kind in our entire species. No matter what kind of office other Autobots might hold, they still can never be like 'us'." He gazed deeply into Prime's optics. "You are so like me, but so opposite of me."

Optimus regarded Rodimus for a long silent moment. Was Rodimus looking for something? It seemed odd that he should make an off-handed statement like that. Something drew him toward Rodimus, something like desire, something like curiosity and yet, neither. He set his faceplate close to Roddi's audio and whispered, oh so softly: "I am glad to be almost nothing like you, Rodimus Prime. And yet . . . I envy your disposition. As you well know, weary and hardened of heart is the experienced, for they know. They know." He almost stood straight when Rodimus held his shoulder down to return the whisper.

"Young enough to be naive, Optimus, and old enough to know better?" He grinned, thinking Optimus would have nothing to say to that statement, after all, neither of them really fit that description. Instead of saying anything at all, Prime leaned forward and slipped the fold of his face plate between Roddi's lips. Before Rodimus' brain registered what was going on, a warm power surge milked past his lip components and into his chest.

"I have to go." And Optimus was gone.

Rodimus sat there, completely speechless, completely shocked. He didn't even know how to react. What was THAT all about? That was-in no ways or means-the same Optimus he knew, not even remotely. And no less than an hour passed before Rodimus finally and numbly rose to his feet to return to his quarters.

---------------------------------------

Magnus blew a great deal of hot air about this and that and all of Prime's attempts to escape everyone's scrutinizing optic. Optimus busied with reorganizing his desk. All the digipads had to go in certain piles, but once again, Magnus organized them according to date and importance. Optimus reorganized them according to what he could get done immediately and what sounded more interesting. Finally, just as the Major-General started really shouting, Optimus interrupted him with his usual, calm, leveled voice:

"I don't know what you're upset about, Magnus."

Ultra Magnus about choked on his own words. It took him a moment or more to find his voice again. "HAVEN'T YOU HEARD A SINGLE WORD I'VE BEEN SAYING!" he exclaimed.

"You've done nothing 'but' talk since you got here." Prime answered in the same even tone. "You are overwhelmed with work, I can understand that. You're worried about those people that have disappeared without a clue. I agree, it's quite the problem. You're concerned about my welfare. I can understand that, too. You think there's something wrong with Rodimus, I agree completely. But honestly, Ultra Magnus, getting upset and shouting at me isn't going to make me jump and do something about it right now. I'm cleaning my desk. I know we've had problems with the Quintessons. Yes, I read your report as of this morning while I was away somewhere off grounds-"

"You left Fort Max." Magnus' phrase was supposed to be a question, but he did not make it sound like one. "I can't believe you would just . . . disappear without Max saying, or leaving a message or SOMETHING!"

"Magnus, I am an adult, more than capable of handling myself. If I wish to leave now and again without yours and Kup's divine permission or being harassed by this and that person, by that and this emergency, I'm going to do it."

"Isn't that irresponsible?" Magnus challenged.

"Magnus, is this irritating you? You seem awfully agitated for some reason."

Magnus felt his upper lip twitch just a bit. He thought of all the things he'd love to make Prime do that his cadets had to do under the same circumstances. He struggled to think of something rational to say, something that would make the senior Prime realize he was not in his right mind. But Magnus could think of nothing.

"Now," Optimus said at length, "this problem at Pluto. Are we still having skirmishes?"

It really wasn't like Prime to use such words, but it conveyed the idea. Magnus calmed a little and with a folding of his arms, nodded silently.

"Hmm. I guess we'll have to resolve this situation another way, then."

"R-resolve it, Prime?" Magnus thought of the terrible battle between the Autobots and the Quints, the bad outcome on both sides and how the Quints had unleashed a few 'surprises' on the Autobots; surprises in reports that neither Prime bothered to read.

"Well, yes." Optimus answered slowly. "We can't afford to keep fighting, obviously. And we are getting nowhere with the Quints. I thought we'd call a draw, set up a negotiations pact."

Magnus about choked and died. "N-negotiate with the Quintessons? Are you serious about this?"

"Well, they are, after all able to reason like we do. I'm confidant we can come to some kind of civilized answer to our dilemma with them, Magnus. The problem is that we'll need a disinterested third party to act as peacemaker and negotiator, someone who's well known for this kind of task-"

"ARE YOU G'THAKING MAD!"

Prime met his optics in the same calm, cool sense and his whole unconcerned expression left Magnus cold. "Ultra Magnus." Prime's voice rang with the disapproval of a shocked parent, "I will have to ask you to leave right now. I'm trying to concentrate and you keep shouting. I can't listen to you and the digipads at the same time."

Magnus had to give Prime a more scrutinized look. "The digipads? Did you say you can't hear them?"

"Did I say that?" Prime echoed. "Yes, that's exactly what I said. I can't hear all of you at the same time. I will have to ask you to leave and return after I've done business with the pads. I'll inform you when I have someone who is willing to help us negotiate with the Quintessons. Thank you and dismissed." And that was it. Prime bowed his head over a digipad and scribbled something across the surface.

Magnus stood there, stunned into silence. It was like talking with a complete stranger. Magnus departed and turned the corner toward the elevator. Just as he did so, he spotted someone familiar . . . someone who really should not be alive.

"Wait!" he cried and gave chase. It was just a glimpse before the figure turned the corner but it was enough a glimpse for Magnus not to mistake the individual.

For a fleeting moment, Ultra Magnus saw Wheeljack.

---------------------------------------

"I'm not sure if it's all wrong, or right or if it's just it." Rodimus added more paint to a wall thick with it. Statues arched and stretched all about Roddi's quarters. A couple of them were reasonably tall but all of them sculpted in sensuous shapes and curves.

THERE HAS NEVER BEEN TWO PRIMES IN ALL OF CYBERTRONIAN HISTORY. YOU KNOW THAT.

Rodimus swung around at the person speaking. "But you know that would entail something wrong. I can't murder Optimus Prime. That's not right. You know that.

IT MIGHT CLEANSE THE MATRIX. ANYTHING THAT CAN IS NECESSARY. 'REMOVING' OPTIMUS PRIME IS NOT THE SAME AS MURDERING HIM. ASSASSINATION IS MERELY REMOVAL OF AUTHORITY. YOU ARE AUTHORITY. YOU HAVE THE OPTION.

"No." Rodimus argued as he smeared a shade of dark purple across the wall. "Ultra Magnus might not understand that."

PEOPLE DIE OF ACCIDENTS EVERYDAY.

"Don't be stupid. Optimus would never fall for something so juvenile. Even Rusti could see right through that stupid idea."

AND THEREIN MIGHT BE YOUR IDEA. YOU SAY HOW ATTRACTED OPTIMUS IS TO HER; HOW ATTRACTED THE MATRIX IS TO HER. MAYBE SHE IS THE KEY TO CLEANSING THE MATRIX. PERHAPS PUTTING HER THROUGH THE CEREMONY IS ALL THAT'S NECESSARY.

Rodimus backed from the wall and thought it carefully over. It was true that Rusti seemed to have uncanny abilities and a connection to the Matrix, whether or not she was aware of it.

"No." he objected after a moment's thought. "I can't kill-I can't go that route. I won't touch her."

IF NOT YOU, THEN PRIME MOST LIKELY WILL. SHE WOULD BE GOOD BAIT. IF HE NEEDS TO 'PASS ON', THEN SHE IS THE WAY TO VICTORY.

Again the Autobot leader, almost alone in his quarters, thought it all over, all his options, all those things necessary to rid the Matrix of its anger and pain. He shook his head in final decision. "I can't make up my mind. I think I'll have to get a fifth and sixth opinion before making my mind. But I want you guys to realize that I appreciate your help. I just feel that I need a little more input."

WE UNDERSTAND, RODIMUS. MAYBE SOMEONE ON THE OUTSIDE OF FORT MAX WOULD HAVE ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW YOU COULD USE.

"Precisely." he agreed. Rodimus sighed and set his can of paint on the plastic-covered floor. The abstract painting stretched floor to ceiling with bodies that also stretched, their bones protruded and splintered out their skin, their eyes dark and hollow. One part of the painting portrayed a human screaming from inside the fuel tank of a Transformer. On another wall the Autobot insignia dripped as though bleeding, leaving a small puddle on the floor below. Satisfied, Rodimus turned to his companions and smiled at them.

Upon the metal chest where his 'companions' sat, were the heads of three Autobots and the upper torso and head of one Human; all of them dead or decomposing. His 'companions' were always such a comfort to Rodimus and they were always there to greet him whenever he'd return to his quarters after a long day. They always knew exactly what to say.

----------------------------------------

Magnus entered his own office building later that night. The lights ran dim, now that Tempra had gone home. Or so he assumed. He entered her office adjoining his and found the floor slick with life blood. He softly swore and ran toward her desk, just scantily reading words written out in the blood: PACIFISTS DIE MANY TIMES.

He found her unconscious behind her desk; her shoulder deeply wounded and her left foot nearly cut off. "Tempra?" he knelt and checked her life signs.

"I'm . . . I'm okay, Commander . . . just tired."

Magnus patched into Medical. "Get First Aid to my office 'yesterday'." he ordered. "Tempra's been attacked."

"I'm sorry, Commander," came the answer. "First Aid is in a meeting with someone at the moment-"

Magnus spat off several 'choice' words then: "I don't care if he's talking with God! Get him over here!"

"This is Apogee, Sir. Fist Aid is in his office talking with someone called Wheeljack, Sir. I can come to your assistance if you'd like."

Shocked, Magnus had no immediate reply. Tempra wept in his arms. He tried to comfort her by holding her more gently. "Apogee, I'm in the Training Grounds office. Tempra has been attacked."

"I'll be there momentarily, sir."

Magnus cut the com and tried to think of something to say to keep Tempra from blacking out. "Who attacked you, Tempra?"

"I don't know, Sir. I thought it was a Decepticon. But that's not possible, is it, Ultra Magnus? I mean, all Decepticons are gone, have been for many years."

Magnus did not want to really ask his next question, but it seemed necessary if it were part of a larger mystery. "Do you know who it was, Tempra?"

"An Insecticon, sir! I'm sure of it! I'm sure of it!"


	6. Insanity

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 6

INSANITY

"The suspense is killing me. Hope it lasts."

Gene Wilder  
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

. . . Optimus stood like a bug before his god. Primus paced the before his great warrior's throne and mused silently. "I have decided you have completed your work, Optimus. Now that my Chosen has arrived it is time for you to pass along."

"Forgive me, Lord . . ." to Prime's audios, his own voice sounded tiny, almost unheard. "My people are yet unsafe and you say that your Chosen is here?" It meant that all along, Optimus himself was not a 'Chosen' but a temporary leader. All his own suffering was not because he himself was really a Prime, but that he was merely a tool . . . a substitute.

"Yes. You will die as many of my servants have; battling to the last moment of life. Then, like them, you will add your essence to the Matrix."

It sounded so cheap and Rusti was horrified at how off-handed Primus sounded; as though Optimus were nothing more than a bit of worn clothing that was torn and needed to be tossed. She ached for him. And she realized, too, that Primus did not promise happiness elsewhere for Optimus; his job was done and that was it.

THAT WAS IT! What about . . . Heaven or Paradise or the Garden of the Kings or some similar place where people go when they die and be happy forever?

'Added to the Matrix?' What the heck was that supposed to mean? Was Optimus just an ingredient like baking powder for making biscuits or something?

In spite of Primus' attitude, Optimus remained brave. "Lord, if I may, I have one question-"

THOOM.

Just like that. Primus squashed Optimus under his foot like a bug. Rusti cried out and shot straight up in her seat.

"MISS WITWICKY!"

She was in science. They were watching a film and she had fallen asleep. "With your permission, we will continue the conversation, hopefully with something of your input." Mr. Goosle eyeballed her with a scrupulous look. The girl couldn't meet his gaze and she sank in her seat, muttering an apology. The dream left her cold and empty.

Rusti traversed the crowded school hall between second and third period classes, her mind a million miles away. She paused almost abruptly and two students narrowly avoided running into her. The Music found her here. She glanced about, expecting to find Freak lurking in a dark corner or projecting itself from a wall. But other than the incident at the park the other night, there had been neither sight nor hint of the manifestation in two weeks.

Or was it a week and a half? The girl could not tell. She just barely survived midterms.

"Excuse me." a boy muttered as he rounded her. Rusty resumed her path toward English and wondered how the rest of the week was going to go. Things at Fort Max were not exactly smooth and the tension affected Central City.

The English essay on buying old cars dragged the clock to an agonizingly slow pace. Rusti hated most of the topics other students came up with for writing exercises. Why not ask something more exciting, like describe a favorite music group?

The fourth period bell rang before the girl finished her work. She submitted it anyway and departed for math. It felt like a perfectly normal school day. While it was a bit dull, Rusti found herself grateful things were smooth.

A crowd of people gathered outside the hall Rusti traveled and gawked at the wall before them. Rusti slowed and so did things around her. She glanced at the hall across the way and noticed how the windows seemed to melt. She cursed under her breath, quickened her pace and exited the building. The five- minute bell called students back to their studies, but no one paid attention. The wet grass splattered about Rusti's pants and shoes as she pressed through others toward the windows. If it were an illusion, it was the best she'd seen; they dripped and slid down the wall as though made of wax.

"Stay back!" ordered a teacher. "All of you, return to class. Right now! Go back to class."

A few students moaned their disappointment, obviously hoping school would be canceled because of the phenomena. Rusti snuck past them and waited for the teacher to turn her attention elsewhere. Three security staffers rushed to the scene to help the teacher herd everyone back inside. It was now or never. Rusti darted toward the wall and touched a melting window.

Her breath caught in her throat as the window oozed over her hand like oil, but it was cold. She withdrew and wiped her hand on the door post as she returned inside. What that hell was going on? She didn't remember the walls doing 'that' during the fracture! Rusti thought hard. It started just a little after the fracture, didn't it? The walls at Fort Max were doing creepy things, too.

The late bell disrupted her concentration and Rusti clenched her teeth. She was going to get a demerit for this.

---------------------------------------

Rodimus sat in the middle of his room. He just finished the best sculpture he made to date-well, his fifth one, anyway. Through the dim, contrasting candlelight, Roddi gazed at the other sculptures: "Tree" seemed a bit amateurish. The bottom part swung out and around while the top was a mere wave of a half-circle shape and a tail curved up from the right hand side. It was a bit odd, but Rodimus felt fine art needed to be . . . different. "Pose" was far too obvious. The statue looked far too much like the Chapronite aliens, except it had feet and a long headless neck. "Driftwood" was kinda cool but Rodimus worried that it might be a bit fragile if it ever had to be transported. Well, he had no intention sending his sculptures into public eye; they'd not understand their beautiful shapeliness. Well, the public at large didn't deserve to see fine art, anyway. The Autobot shrugged. He supposed it was alright, not perfect, not the best, but it was alright. "Thumb" was far better, more fun to look at.

"Wave" was almost absolutely perfect. The one flaw was that it kept trying to crack at the two most curvature points. But patience and a little more medium had fixed it. However, Roddi was afraid he'd have to sand down the rough spots after it dried. Still, its half-circle shape was fun to stare at. It swept up and over just like a wave of water. Very nice, indeed. He grinned. But play time was over.

He gathered his tools and medium and tossed them in the basin to be washed later when he can take his time. Right now, he just wanted to clean the place up and rest a bit before deciding what else to do.

What 'did' he want to do today? Rodimus rolled up the huge sheet of plastic he used to protect the floor during his work. Hmm . . . decisions, decisions . . . he could pester Magnus. He could pester Op-well, no. Not after that last incident . . . Roddi wasn't about to be surprised like that again.

A joke? Maybe a practical joke was in order. Sure! He hadn't done anything like that in a while! Good idea! Optimus could probably use a good laugh. They all could!

Optimus paced along the grounds in front of Central Command while the Paratrons worked under the supervision of an artist. Sculpted rocks and plant-o-bots from Cybertron were carefully placed in strategic places around the new water fountain. Prime didn't like the idea of another fountain in the city. He picked his way around workers and equipment and made it to Groundbreaker's side.

"Who authorized this?" Prime asked over their comline.

Groundbreaker seemed startled that Optimus would come right to the point rather than asking him how he was, how the work was coming along. An instant, pointed question was something he expected from Ultra Magnus. Nevertheless, the Paratron artist grinned in satisfaction. "I didn't want to wait for authorization, Sir. I needed to get this underway ASAP so it'd be done by the time-"

Optimus' mood darkened. "Have you any idea how many fountains we have in this city?"

"Um, twenty-seven, including this one. Oh, and I have plans to resculpt the house of the main power generator, Optimus. You know, the generator I'm sure deserves far more than a mere squared, double-housing. It should be elaborate and beautiful. After all, it is the heart of Fort Max. Of course, we're a bit over-scheduled and a little behind right now, but I'll manage to fit it into my timetable by the end of the year. By the way, Sir, have you seen Doubletake? He's been missing since yesterday. I tried to contact him, but he's not answering."

Prime glowered at him, annoyed that he did not even have the consideration to ask before tampering with the city itself. Fountains might be pretty, but they were costly and time consuming and a general nuisance to traffic. He made a note to decline any more authorizations for such trivial things. And as for redecorating the main generator's housing; well, he could tell where Groundbreaker could stuff his plans. But this really wasn't the time. Optimus also considered sending the Paratron a note about how authority works in Fort Max and 'then' he'd send the arrogant little so-and-so to Ultra Magnus for about three weeks so that Magnus could drill discipline into him.

As Groundbreaker shouted more orders, bossing his workers around (probably to show off, Prime mused), Optimus decided to leave the matter for now. This was 'his' city and no two-bit droid was going to do things without his permission. He departed without another word, once again picking his way out of the construction zone toward Central Command's new curvy stairway.

Prime strolled out of the elevator toward his office. He had pleasant enough a night, lots of rest and few dreams. But while the dreams were not terrible, they were very odd and it left the Autobot leader in a creepy mood. Well, creepy, maybe wasn't the right word, but Optimus could not think of a better way to describe his mood at the moment. He stopped abruptly when a tiny red light caught the corner of his optic. Prime took two steps back and glanced from one wall to the other. He was not more than maybe seven yards shy of his office. He backed off a little further and peered closely at a crack line where two metal plates joined to make the left hand wall. The two plates did not perfectly meet; they weren't supposed to as they were part of Max's real form; Optimus believed this part of Central Command made up Max's left hip plate.

Between the two panels, Optimus found a triggering device. It was not the work of an assassin; they're usually cleaner than this. It was Rodimus' work. He was at it again; bored so that he decided to start playing practical jokes. Prime optically traced the laser light as it cris-crossed along the corridor. He searched the ceiling and floor for surprises but could find nothing obvious. Behind him the elevator doors whooshed open and glancing back, Optimus spotted Kup, nose buried in a pair of digipads. He suddenly thought how funny it would be to let Rodimus think that his trap was tripped, only to find that it was not Optimus that got 'goosed'. He himself produced a pair of digipads and quickly pretended he had to pause in walking to read and compare them carefully.

"Optimus!" Kup greeted him a little too cheerfully. "Glad to see you up and looking better."

"Very kind of you, Kup. Thank you."

"Have you heard? Doubletake has been missing since yesterday. Central City has also reported two delivery guys missing from Berger Industries for five days. They were supposed to drop a few new materials off for Medical. They haven't been seen since."

"Hmmm. I guess we'll have to look into it, Kup."

"Yeah, I'm pretty worried about it. Since that incident with Rusti at the EDC park, I've had my boys working more shifts, covering all the exits and a few weak spots in the city itself."

"Good work, Kup." Prime praised. "Come into my office and discuss Doubletake's disappearance with me." Kup smiled, so obviously pleased Optimus was so concerned about a fellow Autobot. At first Optimus thought the chief of security might realize how irregular it was for Optimus to let him proceed first. But to Optimus' relief, Kup thought nothing of it and walked right across the laser beams. A hatch from the ceiling disengaged and a large hammering device swung straight down and slammed the smaller Autobot right in the 'gut'. Optimus failed to keep from cringing as Kup 'oofed', flew through the air and slammed all the way against the elevator doors.

Ouch.

The large battering ram slowly swung back and forth, its purpose now fulfilled. Prime rushed to the security chief. "Kup!" he made sure his voice was filled with worry, "are you alright?"

Kup was out for a moment or so then his optics flickered on. "What . . . was that?"

Prime glanced at the device then back at Kup. "It was a trap, Kup. A diabolical scheme obviously put there by Rodimus Prime. Don't worry, Kup." Prime's voice fell darker: "I'll handle Rodimus."

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Pink Floyd wasn't necessarily one of Rodimus' favorite pieces of music but at the moment, it fit his mood. He reflected on the movie he recalled watching some years ago-years and another life time ago. The mood of the music matched the icky feeling his dreams left him.

Yeah, 'icky' was the perfect word because he felt both gross and horrified; like that one really whopper of a dream he had before the Fracture hit. What was it all about? Why did the dreams plaque him consistently?

Rodimus smeared his thumb in the mix of paint and mud. He discovered how much more enjoyable it was to mix his paints with other mediums. He tried Earth automotive paint with his chartreuse and that came out strange. He mixed metallic blue with paste and it had an interesting effect. Now he tried black with mud and it had this nice thick texture. But it took him all night to sift all the damned rocks out so it would not be lumpy. Paint, like pudding, should be smooth and easy, sensuous to the touch. He abandoned the use of brushes for the time being. Painting with fingers proved far more fascinating; although the paint did not smear as well as it did with brushes, it was still enjoyable smearing something along the walls; like the time Rusti had gotten a hold of something in her diaper-

Rodimus broke out laughing aloud. And he had to stop painting so he could really laugh hard. Then he settled down and checked his audience. They were watching him paint; enjoying themselves most happily. They remained respectfully quiet and Rodimus appreciated that. They didn't even whine about his sudden outbursts. That was the best thing of all. They just didn't ask.

The music ended and Rodimus sighed. What should he listen to now? Or did he want to listen to anything at all? No! No silence! NO SILENCE. "Um, player," he called to his machine (since Max has no control over his quarters now) "let's hear something different; um . . ." What should it be? Thompson Twins was good; Mike and the Mechanics . . . Roddi flipped through his memory, recalling all the music and each style. What would fit his mood? More Metallica, or something softer? Maybe he'd like a dish of Abba-and here he broke out laughing again. Oh, that was PITIFUL!

How about Klaus Schulze? Enya? Ewwe. Hahaha! Cher! No, no, no. Rodimus thought harder and then remembered an eclectic old piece, hardly known, that he borrowed from Op's private collection. Mike Rowland had this strange, compelling, sad piece called the 'Fairy Ring'. Rodimus remembered first hearing it, good grief, years and years ago and he asked to borrow it, heh, and hasn't returned it yet. Of course, Op's never asked, either and maybe it was that Optimus, being the kind of person he was, didn't bother asking for it back; he just bought himself another copy. But the Fairy Ring, a piano piece, was a bit depressing. Not so bad a thing, at the moment. Maybe it would help ease Roddi's own disturbed mind. He ordered the music and stepped away from his painting project. The shapes, this time a bit smaller than the first few paintings, were broken in line since finger-painting did not carry paint very well. But the art was no less gruesome than the other paintings.

The way he depicted several Autobots in half-transform mode reminded him of that off-beat movie "Naked Lunch". Not that he particularly liked the film, but Rodimus was a culture hound and he liked to try different things. The song shifted into another and Rodimus picked out one of the Autobots on his wall and felt it would be interesting to draw a mouth rising from the ground and swallowing the half-transformed creature. He outlined the outside of the mouth with his finger and thumb and added texture to the mix. He moved up and placed a shocked expression on the Autobot's face. Oh, this one Autobot needed to be . . . Hosehead. That's right. Roddi added a pleading, fearful look in the Headmaster's optics. Then the Mouth of Death needed something more. Rodimus thought hard. There was that bowl of blood he hadn't cleaned out yet. That would work right nicely.

He mixed the blood with the paint and found it had a nice smooth texture to it, but finger painting at this point was insufficient. He snapped up a brush and lined the Mouth of Death carefully before shading and adding a little mud for texture. It should look as though the half-transformed Hosehead were already partly inside the mouth; his color reflected on the terrible long sharp teeth. After ten minutes of work, Rodimus stepped back to admire the piece from a short distance, but he had to be cautious as not to knock down one of his sculptures.

Yeah. Yeah, it looked really good, now. It looked about as frightening and disturbing as he felt. That cold darkness was swallowing Hosehead, just as it was swallowing him little by little everyday. At least when Rodimus ended up in the belly of the beast, he would not be the only one to slide down its tight, airless, sunless throat.

Well, that was enough for today. Speaking of sunshine, he needed to go out and get some air. He cleaned his brush, replaced the Fairy Ring with Thomson Twins, cleaned himself up a bit and exited his quarters.

Roddi walked about eight paces from his quarters when the one panel he stepped on dislodged and shot straight up. He slammed his head and upper back against the ceiling and fell flat on his face. Dazed, he remained down as the panel slowly returned to its place on the floor.

What was THAT? Rodimus managed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his sore noggin. Was there something wrong with Max? That was weird. He didn't even see a triggering device, if it were a trap.

Maybe it was just a fluke thing he'd have to look into on his way back. Shrugging it off and mentally brushing aside the pain, Rodimus picked himself up and traveled on a good fifteen paces down the wall.

Once again the panel he stepped on shot up, but he had tripped and landed face down. He became a Rodimus sandwich when the panel slammed hard. He lost wind and spots flared and died before his optics as the panel lowered. He lay there for several moments, stunned and confused. What was going on? He didn't remember setting any traps earlier. Nobody dared venture to his quarters any more.

Rodimus sat up again and rubbed his head, then a slightly dented right side. His optics narrowed and dimmed in thought. This was a prank. And a good one. Not the best, of course, but a good one. The only other Autobot capable (and daring) enough to pull such a stunt would be, naturally, Optimus. Roddi remembered all too well that one year he and ol' Op exchanged pranks. He had to finally admit that Optimus was pretty darn good at this and probably had dealt with such pranksters as himself before. Practice and experience makes perfect.

Roddi took to his feet again and wondered if he should apologize somehow, or just let the matter drop. After all, he learned that if he left Op alone, Op would pretty much return the favor.

And the floor once again, shot up and he became another Rodimus sandwich between floor and ceiling.

Ouch. He lay there, arms and legs dangling over the panel like a wounded spider. The panel returned to its usual place and where he lay, Rodimus spotted light writing on the wall to his left: THIRD TIME'S A CHARM.

How very like Optimus Prime. Dry humor intermingled with a practical joke. It was funny but cruel at the same time.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 7(reversed steps)

Rusti sat in the middle of her room organizing memory cards for her psych class. Vocabulary . . . terminology . . . nomenclature . . . names, dates, ideas, discoveries . . . she thought she'd drown in them. Cody wanted to go out with her again this weekend, but frankly she just couldn't afford the time. She had three papers due in English by Friday, two papers for civics and a test in psych. With all the things going on at Fort Max, with Optimus' and Roddi's behavior, it was tough trying to concentrate.

And amid the low music playing in the background in her room, something tapped at the girl's subconscious and she tried to keep it out. No more visions, no more weird feelings or outbursts. She absolutely had to concentrate on things.

DEFINE SIX PARENTING TYPES.

She struggled to recall and say them out loud: "Permissive, Authoritarian, authoritative, democratic-indulgent, rejecting-neglecting and . . traditional." She tried to recall their definitions as she said them and with all her might, tried not to look at the tiny light flickering down the wall to her right. Aunt Missy already lectured her about smashing her lamp and jewelry box.

SOCIODRAMATIC PLAY

Rusti wracked her brains. "Uh, pretend play which children act out various roles and themes in stories of their own creation."

The music on her stereo shifted to something soft, silky. Rusti sat there, studying forgotten as the music touched her inner self. She batted her eyes and thoughts of the Communications District came to mind. The Assignments and Registration building walls flickered brightly and played scenes from Cybertron's distant past. Her mind too occupied, Rusti did not consider the oddity of the vision. The building's inside lights died and the walls began to churn like a slow-cooking pea soup. Then the whole building compacted and shrank in size.

The girl swallowed air and ignoring the fact that she was in her robe and slippers, snapped to her feet and dashed out of Central Command. The Communications district was only six blocks away; she could make it. She dashed madly around the new fountain and across the One-Way Street, narrowly dodging Wheelie on his way north. The cold November air bit at her skin as she touched the sidewalk on the other side and swung right, lightly tapping the sidewalk, hardly feeling the metal under her feet at all. Those few EDC officers and soldiers along the walkway gave her wide berth and she ran right between Springer's legs.

"Hey!' he called after her. But she kept dashing. He turned and trailed after her, surprised that he had to run to catch up. "Where 'r you going in such a hurry, kid?"

Two blocks later, Springer got his answer. Just as Rusti imagined, the Comm Center was shrinking, the walls liquefying. Two EDC officers struggled to get through a window, but failed and although emergency crews tried to pry them out, the melting walls collapsed too quickly.

"I-I can't believe this is really happening." Rusti huffed. "Ohmigod. Where's Optimus?"

Magnus was there and he and Hotspot struggled to pull Dogfight out. They just managed, but not without the price of losing one of Dogfight's feet. He screamed when the building's collapsing structure snapped it clean off. Blades in chopper mode dropped First Aid from the air and the Protectobot landed with a light thud. He immediately tended to Dogfight's injury then rushed to help Ambience who also suffered dents, scrapes and a badly damaged arm. Rusti dared press her way further through the sea of Humanoids and Autobots. Magnus yelped commands as Strike Back zipped up in automobile mode with Sludge and Slag behind him.

He transformed and saluted Magnus. "Grimlock refused to come, sir."

Magnus turned from him to the Comm Center as it continued to melt. What in Nine Hells caused that? What is going on? He looked to his Second. "Strike Back, I want every building in this city checked. I want every inch of every wall scanned. I want to know what did this. I want SOMEONE to talk to Optimus or Rodimus about this!"

Nobody seemed to know what caused the building to melt like that. Rusti eavesdropped on as many conversations as she could until someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned and faced Marissa Fairborn.

"Young lady, I 'do' believe it's eleven o'clock at night and you have school tomorrow, right?"

Rusti meekly nodded. "I saw this happening, Aunt Missy-"

"No homework?" Marissa growled.

"Yes. But I imagined it happening while I was doing homework. I had to come see."

Marissa stared at the girl a moment longer and seemed a little less stern. "Well, alright. But you get yourself into bed, understand?"

Rusti again meekly nodded and gave the melted Comm Center a final glance. She shuddered. Was it the fault of the Music? Was it the fault of the same 'Presence' that caused the volleyball to blow out as it did in school a few weeks before? Rusti wasn't so sure she really wanted to know.

She slowly retreated back, watching over her shoulder, sometimes turning around and walking backwards to watch the scene. Where were Optimus and Roddi? Why weren't they here already? Rusti crossed the street back to Central and approached the strange newly-finished fountain in front of the building.

She paused there, staring at it. Two huge hands were molded perfectly as though they came out of the flooring itself. Their rounded fingers tore into the city panels, peeling back the metal, or so it looked, revealing a deep pool of brightly lit water. Three huge springs of water shot up from the center of the fountain as high as thirty feet. The pool itself was very deep, about forty feet, or so Rusti heard. The pool, or basin, gave her chills; it resembled an open wound.

It was a fascinating fountain, certainly, but odd. What was going through the Paratron's minds when they built it? It looked so out of place. Why would Optimus authorize something like that in front of Central? It was not like him. However, Optimus wasn't exactly in a proper mindset. He could have okayed anything; even for a garden in the middle of a highway.

Rusti tapped up the short, broad steps, now finding the slight November breeze colder than it was a few minutes before. Her skin tightened with gooseflesh as she quickly retreated indoors, grateful for the rush of warm air. The lobby stood silent and dim, now that only the evening shift was at work. Illumini, the evening receptionist, didn't even glance up to greet the girl eye-to-optic. Rusti swiftly passed the check-in, knowing the receptionist would not bother with security measures or the like; everyone knew her here. She trudged up the incline to the first hall and made a left for the elevator.

There came a mournful cry and Rusti paused in mid-motion. She thought she heard whispers: "No more children." She waited to hear more, but nothing else came. Her eyes narrowed, daring her imagination to 'try that one again.' But when she heard nothing more, she proceeded to the elevator.

But the girl did not get that far. The floor before her rolled like a wave of water and before her appeared thousands and thousands of robots and the more that appeared, the longer the hallway stretched back and out to accommodate the mass. Rusti found herself standing on a platform, staring down at the multitude, seeing them as sentient creatures, not so much as their physical make, but as individuals complete with name and date of creation -all those who have existed over the meganiums.

It's inconceivable to think that so many 'Children' have lived over the ages and the Matrix remember every one of them. Rusti wondered if the Matrix itself had a name. But that thought was fleeting and her mind drifted back to the Children. How many perished during the reign of Dark Prime? How many perished during the many wars with the Quintessons? And did 'Children' include Decepticons, or was the Matrix really that selective?

That was a question for which even Optimus had no answer.

"This one."

Rusti did not remember standing alone in the corridor. Her mind kept drifting further and further from reality.

"This one."

"And what did you call him?" She asked the Music.

"They call themselves. It is their right as sentient beings. He called himself Ironhide."

Rusti thought she was talking to another girl a little less than her own age. There was no visual contact, but the girl didn't find it necessary to see. Rusti used her other Senses.

"This one because I have not heard his voice in a long time. I miss them all."

"And what's so special about him?" Rusti asked. She did not stop to think she was experiencing a Matrix memory; the same thing as experienced by several people, including herself during the Time Fracture. "What have you chosen him for?"

The answer came as a whisper too soft to hear and the girl batted her eyes when a brilliant soft blue light encompassed her whole visual scope. She stumbled back for a clearer look when something to her right shook the floor and the wall was blown in by a deafening roar. She fell flat. The ship (she was on a ship, now?) under her rocked and Brawn jumped from his station.

"Megatron!" he shouted and raced for the middle of their vessel. "Decepticons!" he alerted as more 'servants of evil' poured into the ship.

"Die, Autobots!" Megatron led the attack. He leapt backward toward Starscream, transforming into his powerful gun mode. He had been prepared to use everything he had to exterminate those members of the opposing side.

Starscream wasted no words, shooting Brawn first. Brawn fell, wounded from the shoulder. His systems shut down for stasis, but it was too late; his laser core was already extinguished.

Prowl jumped from his chair, having set the shuttle on auto pilot. Starscream dodged his shot and Constructicon Scavenger drained his weapon into the Autobot's mid section. Fire raced through Prowl and he too fell flat, never to move again.

Ironhide and Ratchet joined the fray, firing weapons haphazardly. A few Decepticons retreated from the barrage, but the odds were two against too many and dauntless, the Decepticons returned fire. Ironhide took two blows then Ratchet took more before Starscream used Megatron against them and they fell; easy targets to their hunters. Starscream fired until Megatron pulled from him and transformed, victorious in the moment. Autobot blood smeared the flooring but Megatron sloshed through it with ease-and glee.

"This was almost too easy, Starscream!" he gloated.

"Much easier, Almighty Megatron," Starscream agreed, "than attacking the REAL threat: the Autobot's moonbase!"

That was a dare, a sneer, an underhanded attack to decry Megatron's authority before the other Decepticons. Once again, like so many millions of times before, Starscream tried to undermine Megatron's power by making him look weak or cowardly before the other Decepticons. But Megatron was not so beguiled as to fall into Starscream's mind games. He knew that to eliminate his Second meant losing the respect of his followers. "You're the idiot, Starscream." Megatron retorted after two seekers and Soundwave flew in and took control of the shuttle, "when we slip by their early warning systems in their own shuttle, and destroy Autobot City, the Autobots will be vanquished forever!" Of course, it was an obvious statement. But it was necessary to remind his followers of their objective. It was necessary to explain to them time and time again why it was so important they eliminate the hated Autobots. If the Decepticons were to be the supreme race in the galaxy (and eventually the universe) they had to eradicate the one thing that stood in their way.

But Ironhide still lived. He struggled with every fiber of his life. He moved to trip Megatron. It was not a maneuver to destroy the Decepticon leader. Heck, Ironhide was, of all things, a realist. But if he were to live just long enough to make Megatron trip, to make him look foolish in front of his own cronies, it was worth ending his life. "No!"

Megatron sneered. One Autobot still lived to challenge his destiny. "Such heroic nonsense," he growled and he shot the Autobot's head clear off.

Then time froze at that moment. Rusti stared at the scene, at the victorious Megatron and his cutthroat crew. Her eyes fell on Starscream, his own optics greedily taking in the sight of destruction. It seemed his soul drank in the loss of life. It was the beginning of a terrible time for the Autobots and little did the Decepticons realize their future would follow suit.

Rusti thought she could hear her heart beat. The Matrix felt each of their deaths. The Matrix remembered the history of this moment. What was widely known, wasn't the whole story. The little 'spat' between Optimus and Ironhide was actually a full-fledged argument, but no one recorded it. Prowl earlier suggested using a different route to Earth, but the vessel was detoured to the main travel lanes because the one gate he suggested using was down for repairs. Brawn wanted to go to Earth earlier that week, but was delayed by other problems at hand. It seemed for every little detail that occurred, they all purposefully led to the same dark moment: Optimus' death.

It was planned very carefully.

But the plan was not of Decepticon designs and that was something Rusti now realized. Optimus' death was not a mistake or a failure on his part. It was meticulously devised by someone who knew exactly what the Decepticons should learn, the shuttle flight plans, how Laserbeak learned of Autobot schemes.

"Why!" Rusti demanded. "They ALL almost died!"

The Music mourned in her ears. THEIR PURPOSE IS TO PROTECT, TO DEFEND AGAINST THE GREAT EVIL. THEY ARE A WARRIOR SPECIES. THEY MUST BE STRONG. That actually was not what the Music said. Those very words belonged to someone else, someone who desired a change, as though bored with the way things were.

It did not answer her question. The illusion of the shuttle and all its occupants faded to grey then dissipated like ashes in a gentle rain. Rusti sank to her knees, staring into nothing. Slowly the walls and coloring of the corridor returned to her vision. Reality came back to her in sullen quiescence.

What was all that about? Did anyone else go through this kind of display? Somehow, Rusti did not think so. A shadowed figure slipped soundlessly across the way.

At first the girl thought nothing of it. Then she realized there should have been sound; metal tapping against metal, even if Autobots could move quietly along metal flooring. Who was that? She stood and waited to see if the figure would retreat her way. When it did not, Rusti found she could not resist the urge to give chase. Maybe he had more news regarding the buildings from Communications.

Rusti quietly made her way down the hall and half hoped Aunt Missy was too busy to check on her. She turned another corner and the figure just slipped round another hall; toward the stairway and Perceptor's and Dr. Hansen's office. She raced after, now more determined to catch him.

But upon arriving, there was no one.

Rusti turned all around, her eyes scanned every possible escape route and doorway. Nothing. She set her hands on her hips. This was crazy! He could not have just disappeared! Or maybe she was seeing things.

Great! First a Matrix memory, now her own head was playing games-oh don't use that word!

"Watchit, there, little microbyte, you mahght hurt yerself."

Rusti's eyes shot wide. She turned and there standing behind her . . . she batted her eyes in disbelief and took two steps away from the tall red-and-grey figure. "Y-you're . . . supposed to be . . . dead." She could not breathe.

He grinned, causing Rusti to go light-headed. Her skin frosted. Ironhide was supposed to be dead! He was supposed to be dead! The strange light in his optics even said so.

"C'mon! Pryhm 'll wanna talk atcha."

Before she could object, the not-so-dead Autobot swept her off her feet and aimed for the elevator. But the doors did not open for them. They were going to crash into the wall and Rusti feared the wall would swallow her alive.

"No!" she objected. "No! I can walk! Let me down!" She struggled in vain then threw up her arms to protect her head as Ironhide walked right through the wall.

It wasn't until her lungs filled with air that she realized she was still alive. They were in the corridor of the fourth level. But . . . but she was still on the second level . . . she was . . . she was . . .

Her thoughts jumbled and the edges of her vision started to turn white.

They passed through Optimus' office doorway. Rusti's heart stopped beating. She couldn't take much more of this. Ironhide practically dropped her on Prime's desk. From the corner of her eye she barely made out Optimus' chair. It swung around and there Optimus sat, fingers steepled in thought.

"Ah found you a little somethin' scamperin' about the hallways, Pryhm." Ironhide's drawl was well pronounced, old-fashioned, but its friendliness was not enough to bring Rusti out of near-unconsciousness.

Optimus rose calmly. "Thank you, Ironhide. Young lady," he sternly addressed. "You are supposed to be in bed."

Rusti's muscles melted; she could hardly support herself. She dared a gaze at the Autobot leader. His optics were white. They didn't just flash white, as though he were angry or 'meant business', they were actual white. The girl managed a breath. "Opt'mus . . ." her little voice barely penetrated the air. "He's-Ironhide's-s-s . . . dead."

Optimus' movements came slow, as though reality moved to a snail's crawl. His optics bent cold on her and when he talked, his face plate split, revealing several rows of frightfully sharp teeth. "Young Lady. To bed."

The sight was too much and Rusti finally convinced herself it was all just a bad dream. Her mind simply shut down.

The alarm clock blared and Rusti shot straight up with a cry. Her heart pounded in her chest until she realized she was in bed, in her own room in Central Command. Her wide eyes snapped at every corner in her room, finding her clothes lying where she dropped them last night. Her homework lay in a neat pile on her 'chest of things' and her slippers rested before the bed. She didn't remember going to bed. How did she get here? Were the visions from last night so powerful that she just didn't realize that maybe some other part of her mind ran on automatic?

Or! Or maybe all things from the melting building in Communications to . . . to Optimus was just a series of nightmares.

Well, whatever the case, Rusti felt more rested and after turning on her stereo, dressed for school.

Rusti boarded the bus with a large group of people heading to Central City. Most of them carried bags and suitcases as though going on a retreat. By the time everyone was aboard, the bus was so packed that it made Rusti slightly claustrophobic. Two ladies across the girl glanced at one another and smiled between suitcases, purses and boxes.

"You too?" the brunette started.

"After th' bathroom mirror melted into a puddle of silver, Luke 'nd I decided th' kids 'nd I oughta stay in Central."

The brunette nodded. "I would have left three weeks ago when the walls started flashing those home-movies, but Geoff felt it wasn't so dangerous. Then last night the wall . . . I don't know, it was too weird."

The blonde beside her nodded. "I heard it's some kind of nuclear testing going on over in the Pacific and it's causing all kinds of strange things to go crazy."

The brunette shook her head. "Not when th' wall actually slides through a glass cage 'nd devours my husband's rats. It's gotta be som'n more than discombobulated molecules. Luke thinks th' city might be possessed by aliens, but th' 'higher-ups' can't say anything so's to keep everyone calm."

"Hmm." The blonde nodded. "Makes sense, since they say Optimus Prime is seriously ill."

"Is THAT what's been going on in Central Command?" the brunette shook her head. "Poor guy! I know things have been tough, what with losing so many battles on Pluto 'nd those three shipments to Mars getting lost 'nd people 'nd Autobots disappearing left 'nd right . . . It's getting really tough out there. Really tough." her voice trailed off as the bus made its first stop and three people disembarked.

Half an hour later the bus dropped Rusti at school and she joined a packed assemblage of bodies. She hoped nothing strange would happen today, especially with that psych test she studied so hard for. Still, she felt too far from Fort Max; as if she should be there when she was here. That same thought nagged her one class at a time. She managed through the psych test without too much difficulty. PE was okay, too, but that hour stretched into what seemed days.

Cody greeted her at the bus stop at the end of the day. "I'll take you home, Rusti, if you'd like." he offered.

She smiled gratefully. "Okay."

They didn't talk much. Rusti didn't know if he had a lot on his mind, or if it was her. As they started up Gateside Road toward Fort Max, Cody turned down the radio and broke the silence between them. "What's on your mind, Rus? Usually you're talking at light speed." He glanced to her then back at the road.

She shrugged then shook her head. She stared at the world with worried eyes. "Cody, I know this sounds really bizarre. But sometimes I feel like I'm two different people, you know?"

"You 'are' two different people, Rus. You're a human teenager going through school, struggling to grow up. But you're also a human raised by Autobots. Sometimes I think of you as Mogli from Jungle Book. You're one thing, but you're influenced by another. That's gotta be confusing somewhere along the line. I mean, were you 'always' with the Autobots?" And here, Cody started laughing then he laughed harder. "I'm sure Optimus Prime didn't change your diapers, but you've been with the Autobots for many years and-"

"Cody," she softly interrupted, "Optimus 'did' change my diapers."

His smile died and the boy glanced at her several times while a Jupiter 8 passed them in the next lane. "Oh." Silence drifted between them again and finally Rusti decided to open up. "Cody, sometimes I feel like I'm doing or saying or feeling things that I . . . I would not. I feel as though someone else in my head were experiencing things. Remember the park incident in the EDC complex?

Cody hesitated, "no, not really, Rus. I don't think you mentioned it."

She looked a bit startled but decided she might have forgotten. "I couldn't sleep one night a couple weeks ago and decided to go to the park and sit on the swings. I spotted those Chapronites and some guy who was a Doppelganger and they found me and gave chase and . . . I don't know, Cody, I don't clearly remember how it happened, but the guy- he died and before I knew it, it was the next morning and I was sitting in the grass and the Chapronites were dead." A chilling sensation shrouded her as she recalled one more unusual detail: "Oh, Freak was there . . . I think It saved me."

Cody veered the car off the roadway. He turned it off and stared at her, shocked. "It did what? It saved your life? You mean It attacked the aliens, Rusti? And you . . . you killed the Doppelganger?"

"I don't 'know', I don't know what happened, Cody, or what's happening to me. I'm scared!"

Cody started the car again and waited for two then three passing vehicles before returning to the highway. He remained quiet as they climbed Border Bend. "You know, Rus, maybe you should pack your things and stay the weekend with your folks. I know how you hate staying with them, but maybe just for the weekend, just to get away from the crazi . . . ness . . ."

Their eyes widened in shock as Cody passed Caravan Hill to the EDC Eastern side entrance to the city. Fort Max had walls, where there weren't walls before. It was as though the city itself simply constructed them out of its own body shell. To make matters even eerier, the wall was lined with Autobot faces staring away from the city itself. It looked medieval, as though the faces were gargoyles waiting to come to life. Chills ran up and down Rusti's body as Cody approached the check point. A Paratron femme greeted them and asked Cody his business.

"Just bringing Rusti home from school." he answered in a small voice. "Did-did you see those faces?"

"Faces?"

"The walls? I mean, you 'did' notice the walls, right?"

The femme glanced behind them. "Yes. They were there this morning. We were informed that Maximus is increasing security. You're free to go, have a nice day."

Cody lingered a moment, staring at her. Obviously she was completely unaware of the faces in the walls. He pressed onward toward the EDC district, easing his mother's car into the stream of vehicles moving down Bradbury Avenue. "Rus, if you'd like, I can wait here while you get your things and let Prime and Roddi know you're going to stay with your folks."

Rusti sighed heavily and her mind drifted toward Optimus. He was in a meeting. She switched and tried to seek Roddi's presence. But a sense of disgust and darkness met her and the girl, not really thinking at the moment, withdrew and shook her head. "I don't think I can talk with either of them tonight, Cody. Really. I'll talk to them tomorrow. Optimus' just in a meeting. Roddi . . . I don't think . . ." she thought it over a little more carefully, "I don't feel safe talking to him."

That got Cody's attention and he flinched, grateful for the red light. "Rusti, what did you say?"

She blinked, staring straight ahead at the incredible buildings looming before them. Fort Max was so huge. Central City was big enough, but Fort Max . . . and her mind slipped into the city's consciousness and felt every pulsation, every breath it took. Max powered every building, every appliance, provided protection and sustenance to it's two million population. A great cloud hovered over the city, unseen. Its soft presence settled upon the streets and touched the girl. Rusti thought she could drink it in, embrace it with her whole self.

It . . . it loved her.

THERE IS NO CONNECTION BETWEEN ME AND THE MATRIX!

Was that a lie? And if it was not, then what was the connection? What was it all about? Was it the fault of the Matrix that she was the way she was?

"Rusti?"

She drew a deep breath and gazed at Cody with a smile.

"You fell asleep. I didn't know if you wanted to be at your place in EDC or Central."

She peeked outside and found they were there, at Central Command. The fountain spurted high while a group of visitors took pictures of their little kids playing on the hands. Rusti tore her eyes from the sight to face Cody with a forced smile. "I'll be alright. This is just fine, Cody, thank you so much."

His face turned blank. "I worry about you, Rus. Call me if you need to talk again, okay?" She smiled more broadly and quickly gave him a peck on the cheek. "Maybe we can go see another flick this Saturday?"

"Maybe." she replied carefully. "I can't make any promises."

"Okay. Well, have a good night, Rus."

"You too."

And they departed.

" . . . And some lingering remnants of his memory 'and' personality."

They dragged him back. How they did it was far beyond his comprehension. Why? Why couldn't those . . . there was no word foul enough to describe how Prime felt about the Quintessons. They had no right! Evil, aberrant, decadent freaks with no conscience or compassion!

Optimus sat up from sleeping on his desktop. His forearms were wet. If he was so miserable a person, if he was so evil and so wrong, why the hell did he exist?

A dark, searing hot liquid milked down the center of his body and Optimus gasped, laying his hand over his chest. What was that? He envisioned a shapeless dark thing churning and twisting inside his body. It hurt. HE hurt.

Why, in all that was unholy, did he come back? Why did they bring him back (screaming, no less) to THIS? Wasn't the goddamned war over YET? HE started the war. HE tried to finish. HE did what he could to preserve his people. HE prayed to Primus faithfully, believing, trusting and continued to do his job time after useless, fruitless time. And here he was again: the INVINCIBLE, INDESTRUCTIBLE, INFALLIBLE Optimus Prime! YES, LADIES AND IDIOTS ACROSS THE GALAXY, HERE'S YOUR HERO! RIGHT FOR THE ASKING! KICK HIM WHEN HE'S DOWN, SPIT IN HIS FACE AND STAB HIM IN THE BACK!

ALL YOURS IF THE WAR IS RIGHT!

And centuries from now, when peace reigns and Humans and Autobots live happily together, when Decepticons are worshiped for their prowess, their strength and their cunning, they will recall the name of Optimus Prime and scoff-He was NOTHING! A mere cog in the great wheel of life. Not even that! Not even! No, Optimus Prime was a spot of LUBRICANT that greased the great war machine and it was the Decepticons that put a stop to it all! Evil, foul Autobot! And they'd vomit to his memory.

Optimus rose from his desk. He felt diseased, filthy and grotesque. Why 'would' Primus listen to him, anyway? Optimus had been violated by evil. They touched him to control him. They desecrated his soul with their own putrid designs.

The moment was kindly interrupted when someone called him over the comline. "Prime." he said deadpan. He was in no mood to talk.

"Hey." It was Rodimus and he didn't sound too happy. But what else was new? That is to say, Optimus knew behind that over-cheery facade lay a very somber person. Rodimus just liked to hide, that's all. "I was wondering what was up with the walls around the city."

"Walls."

"Yeah, Prime, the WALLS around Fort Max. I was taking my daily excursion round the city and whoa, there! Suddenly I'm seeing walls all around the edges of the city."

Optimus became annoyed. "Ask Max. I'm busy." and he almost cut communications when Roddi shouted in time:

"I already did! Max says HE doesn't know about any walls-'specially walls with FACES on them . . .Op, what's going on?"

Optimus' optics dimmed in displeasure. "Take a good GUESS, Rodimus. I'm sure you can figure it out for yourself."

"Is this because of that prank I pulled this morning? The panels all pulled off the floor in front of your quarters?" Silence. "It is, isn't it? Come on, Op. No big deal. I've been there before, REMEMBER?"

"I am in no mood for your vendettas, Rodimus." the Senior Prime hissed.

"Oooh . . . we ARE sore today, aren't we? I guess that's what happens when you get old and out of kilter. Look, why don't you take a vacation for a couple of meganiums. Go to the moon or visit Jazz-"

Optimus cut communications. That was enough. If the 'boy' wanted to act juvenile, he could do it in front of someone who cared.

The comline buzzed again and Optimus knew without a doubt it was Rodimus. They played this game before; Roddi would annoy him, he'd hang up, Roddi would call again. At the third ring (as usual) Optimus activated the comline and used his most authoritative voice: "THIS IS GOD. I AM BUSY HANDLING THE UNIVERSE RIGHT NOW AND CANNOT COME TO THE PHONE. IF YOU HAVE A QUESTION, LEAVE IT AFTER THE BEEP. IF YOU HAVE A REQUEST, SUBMIT IT IN WRITING. IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM, PLEASE SEE OPTIMUS PRIME."

That sent Rodimus cracking with laughter.

Prime left the channel open while he plucked up a digipad and glanced at it; a 'recommendation' from Magnus to check those digipads concerning shipment authorizations at Upper Level. Prime's optics dimmed in annoyance.

"Optimus," Rodimus' voice came in clear, but Prime scarcely paid attention. "I got a good chewing out by Strike Back a few days ago. Something about not keeping up to date on city visitors or incoming ambassadors who expect to see either you or I. Have you talked to him recently? I wish you would."

"Why yes! You're quite right, Rodimus." Optimus nearly sang in answer, "I keep forgetting that I AM God, around here, that I exist only to serve the whims and desires of every Human, Autobot and jerk in this city. I am expected to fill their expectations, go on for weeks without rest, see to it everyone is comfortable and cozy, has a full tank and a teddy bear to sleep with at night. Oh, and when I have NOTHING ELSE TO DO, they expect me to be at their parties and dance the night away-but I'd better be fresh and alive the next day to attend the meetings and kiss everyone's aft! Oh, my I MUST be forgetting something! Shame on Optimus! Less than perfect, less than omnipresent and omniscient! Why, he must be a Decepticon-No! The Decepticons were merely misunderstood people, they didn't REALLY mean to conquer other worlds, steal resources that weren't theirs and commit genocide! Why, Optimus is just a g'thaking self-righteous bully! You're right, Rodimus! Here I sit doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING when I should be balancing the universe on my shoulders! Yes, of COURSE I'll get right on the problem, after all, that's why I'm here, isn't it, Rodimus? AND WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT, MAGNUS? CAN'T YOU SEE I'M UP TO MY SHOULDER STRUTS IN EXCREMENT!"

Both Rodimus on the other end of the comline and Magnus now standing at the threshold of Optimus' office stared in dumbfounded shock.

"ONCE AGAIN, EVERYONE AND THEIR GRANDSIRES COMES TO ME FROM ALL PARTS OF THE GALAXY WITH THEIR LITTLE COMPLAINTS AND THEIR PROBLEMS, THEIR BROKEN TOYS AND THEIR PATHETIC 'TO DO' LISTS AND IF I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH, IF I COME ACROSS AS SOME KIND OF HUMAN PRICK THEN THEY FEEL OBLIGATED TO SPIT IN MY FACE OR STAB ME IN THE BACK. IS THAT NOT RIGHT, MAGNUS? ISN'T THAT WHAT YOU'RE HERE FOR?"

The sudden silence made Magnus very nervous. He could hear the wheels of a maintenance droid softly squeak as it and its cart slowly rolled past Prime's office.

"Um, I just . . . I just came to find out if you've gotten my message. Ambassador Duko-"

"Duko?" Prime's voice fell dangerously ominous.

"Yes . . . Duko . . . said he and his concubine would like to expect to meet you for dinner . . .uh, he wants to open a new trade agreement . . . I thought you'd like to know."

Optimus rounded his desk and approached Magnus. The Major-General backed from him until they were both in the hall. "Hm." his voice sounded more reasonable and Magnus felt a little calmer. "I suppose we could negotiate a thing or two with Duko. It might make the day more interesting."

Prime kicked Magnus in the thorax and when Magnus bent over in pain, the Autobot leader clasped his arm firmly about the City Commander's neck. Magnus struggled like a trapped animal as Prime dragged him down the hall. He had no idea Optimus was really this strong! He managed to pound his fists into Prime's hip plates to no avail. Finally Optimus shoved him down on his backside then thrust something past his lip components. A horrible burning sensation seared Magnus' interior. He struggled and finally kicked the Autobot leader off. Magnus' insides melted and he fell to his knees vomiting lubricants and mech fluids. Nearby rolled a bottle of acetone; liquid floor scrub.

Prime stepped before him, his voice deathly quiet. "Had enough?" Magnus reached to him as blood seeped through crevices and drained out his body. "No?" Prime sounded both amused and annoyed. He yanked Magnus up and heartlessly dragged him down four flights of stairs to the lobby. Magnus felt every step scrape and slam against his body. He tried in vain to break free of Prime's grip.

"MAGNUS HASN'T HAD ENOUGH OF ME!' He declared to everyone there, EDC officers, Autobots and aliens alike. He ignored their horrified stares. "I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO MAKE MY MESSAGE CLEARER!" And with all his strength, Prime swept Magnus off the floor and impaled him on the spear of a warrior statue.

"THERE!" Optimus shouted even louder, "THIS IS THE MESSAGE YOU CAN SEND TO DUKO! PISS . . . OFF!"

Autobots and EDC officers poured into the lobby as Prime transformed to truck mode. They gazed at Ultra Magnus who hung precariously from the statue. The shaft of the spear rose from the back of his mid section, slick with fluids and blood. Optimus' engines roared monstrously loud and the Humans covered their ears. He shot out the lobby, flying over the steps and sailed across the fountain as though he had wings. Glass sprayed in every direction, littering the floor like diamonds.

He landed in the middle of the road with a horrific crunch. Sparks flared and blazed under him as Prime's body screeched along the metal plating without so much as scratching his own exostructure. He yanked right as two cars and an Autobot skidded several yards to avoid hitting him. Optimus raced, zipping around one car then another in expertly smooth maneuvers, but slammed into the back of Autobot Pointblank, shoving him into a human vehicle. Not bothering to see the wreckage he left behind, Prime turned right, heading west on Horizon Avenue. He gained speed, tailgating anyone stupid enough to block his way. But a delivery truck did just that and rather than slam into the Human vehicle, Prime transformed to robot mode. Using the momentum of his speed, he sprung over the truck and propelled himself forward far enough to transform back to his truck mode. He raced forward even faster, speeding through a red light, causing another near-accident.

Sirens screamed as city security (CS) raced to the scene.

"COMMANDER OPTIMUS PRIME, WILL YOU PLEASE COME TO A FULL STOP." It was not a question. CS officer Headmaster Nightbeat connected to Fort Max to redirect traffic safely along Polaris Avenue. In a matter of a few minutes, all traffic lights from adjoining streets turned red and traffic veered right while five CS officers accelerated after the Autobot leader.

Optimus paid them no mind. He did not know where he was going, nor did he care. He felt the cool Oregon air flow about his chassis and he drank in life force as it existed in every thing around him. There was dark Music in some places. It festered through crevices and secret places where Max was unaware. The dark Music called to Optimus and although listening to it caused him to bleed, he strained his whole being to hear every pinpoint of sound, every note that promised euphoria. His lasercore vibrated with perfect rhythm. He breathed to its high notes and increased speed according to its tempo.

Nightbeat and Siren were soon joined by Bullseye and Cryox. Optimus was fully aware of them all and wondered what the excitement was all about. After all, he was just exercising his authority and his right to do as he pleased now and again. "What's the matter Nightbeat?" he asked in challenging tones, "can't handle me by yourself? Think you can do it if you had proper backup?"

"Optimus!" Cryox called, "we respectfully ask that you cease and desist all illegal and dangerous activity and submit to-"

Optimus' voice turned frightfully deep, "Tell it to the Gingerbread Man." And the Autobot leader moved even faster so that Cryox could not keep up. Prime turned right on Ascension Grade leading straight to Upper level. Bullseye and Nightbeat tagged him, their lighter forms compensated for their lack of speed as they climbed the ramp that rose from ground level and swung up in a steady slope. It was dangerous for anyone to climb Ascension Grade at the speeds Optimus traveled (150+), although the Grade was fortified with extra guard posts and rails. Although it was wide and strong enough to handle even the weight of the rambunctious Dinobots, the danger lie in oncoming traffic.

But like a trained acrobat, Optimus treated the Grade just as though it were any other road. He sped a little faster as Upper level came into view. "Do you like surprises, Nightbeat?" he asked, maintaining the cold voice.

Nightbeat was wearing down and questioned his intent to stop the Autobot leader. He hadn't thought about what he was going to do should he succeed in his attempt (feeble, though it might prove). And who, other than Ultra Magnus, would make Prime pay? The Headmaster suddenly realized this scenario was like catching God with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar-there was no one He had to answer to.

"Would you like to see a surprise?" Prime bated him again. But this time, the Autobot leader did not wait for an answer. He laughed and at the speed of 177 miles per hour, he transformed just as his tires touched the flat surface of Upper Level and to Nightbeat's, Bullseye's and Siren's sensors, Optimus Prime disappeared.

Muzzle, Nightbeat's Interface, pulled the Autobot to a halt, dragging the Transformer around. It was a good thing there was no traffic at the moment. Nightbeat transformed to robot mode and he and Muzzle scanned the roadside, the other highway leading toward the spaceport and the on-ramp leading to the Upper level neighborhoods. Siren and Bullseye joined him in their own robot forms and all three security officers glanced around, scanned with their own specialized equipment then glanced at one another. Optimus was absolutely nowhere in the area.

Rusti lay on her bed, headphones hiding her from the rest of the world. She concentrated on math, finding she liked it less and less all the time. Finally the last problem (it WOULD be the last problem) stumped her. She eyed her civics book with dread, decided she didn't want to read the assigned chapter yet and closed it. Rusti sat on her bed, staring at all the books and papers and felt it was time for a break. She had been a good girl, studying for two hours straight. She needed to visit the kitchen in hopes of finding a bit of chocolate ice cream.

She slipped her shoes and jacket on and exited her room. The next level down, the main lobby, yammered with multitudes of voices. Usually the lobby was quiet as a library. Rusti slipped down the hall and found the place crowded with security and medical personnel. All the front glass doors and windows were smashed to pieces and now carefully guarded. Humans and Autobots came and left the scene in a flurry of activity and now and again, someone said Optimus' name as though it were an omen. First Aid and his two assistants guided a anti-grav stretcher bearing Ultra Magnus out the main doors.

Rusti did not want to know what happened. She dreaded the truth and decided not to get involved. She slunk down the hall to the western side of Central Command and into the small kitchen. Only a couple of off-duty EDC officers and one of their wives were at the table. The one officer's wife wept and talked as the girl scooped herself a dish of chocolate ice cream, and snapped off two paper towels from above the sink. Rusti folded the ice cream box up as another woman walked in; someone from Medical.

"Monica," she called kindly. "Monica, hon, I'm Evette. You can call me Evy, okay?" Monica sniffed and nodded. "Alright, hon, why don't you tell me exactly what has happened, okay?"

Monica had a difficult time getting the words out between sobs: "I-I work . . . I usually work at the library in . . .(sob) in the business district. We . . . we were just filing-"

"Okay, Monica, who's 'we'?"

"My co-worker, Neylan. But she didn't make it."

"Hmm?"

"We . . . we were filing business reports from . . . from Simultech Industries when the wall-oh, gawd, the wall behind us just opened up like a mouth! And these horrible . . . forked tongues came out at us and before I knew it, I was inside the wall! And I couldn't breathe and I tried to scream and kick my way out and I pounded and pounded and -oh gawd!" And she broke down and wept harder.

Evy prepared a hypo and shot the poor woman and patted her on the shoulder. "Okay, hon. You're okay now. You're with Raine, now and he'll take care of you."

"I thought it was like . . . the wall melted and I managed to . . . to ooze my way through and when I was out, I tried to get Neylan, but . . . but the wall went hard again!" And she could say no more.

Rusti felt awful and quickly left the kitchen, feeling guilty for eavesdropping on something so private. As she swiftly retreated to her room, spooning ice cream, she wondered if she should have taken Cody's advice and left Max.

What if it was too late and nobody could leave?

She turned the corner toward the elevator and nearly ran straight into Optimus Prime.

She stumbled back, but managed to keep her footing; ice cream forgotten. Optimus neared her face to face and she shuddered at his all too-friendly smile.

"There you are, Rusti. Rodimus has been looking for you."

"To be sure." She didn't know why she said that, but she was quite sure the words gave away her fear. Then she blinked and glanced toward the lobby. "Optimus, how did you get past security? It seems they're looking for you."

His optics grew dark and brilliant. "Are they, now?"

She smiled uneasily. "I . . . I guess so." She wondered if she shouldn't call Max to warn security that Optimus was there. "Well . . . um, I have to go to my room, now, Optimus and um, get my homework done."

Prime hesitated: "You can't do it tonight, Rusti. It's far too dangerous for you."

She flinched. "What? No, Optimus, I have essays to finish and I have a math problem to get back to and-"

"Ssshhhhhh."

Why Rusti did what he told her, she'd never figure. But she was compelled to obey and listened all around her. She listened to the walls and how the molecules churned. They were all angry, those molecules. They were not allowed to go and do whatever they pleased. There they had to stay in one place all their lives, for however long the city existed. They grew angrier and angrier until they managed to melt the solidity of the walls and compromised its steadfast integrity and they broke free like a dam of gushing water, laughing.

They laughed with bouts of insanity.

"I think it will be only for tonight, Rusti. Most likely." And before the girl could run or cry out, Prime swept her up and she watched in shock as the wall to the outside opened up for him and he jumped out, landed gracefully, transformed and sped away.

"Optimus!" She banged on the door then the dashboard. "What the HELL do you think you're doing!"

"I have to put you in a pumpkin shell to keep you there very well." The poem

"DON'T FEED ME THAT BULLSHIT! LET ME OUT!"

"Now, Rusti, don't be upset. If I did not take you now, Rodimus would find you and take you and then a fight would break out between us and THEN I'd have to go to his quarters and pick up what would be left of you. It's not a good thing. Roddi has his intentions."

She glared, clenching her teeth. "I have no idea what you're talking about. But you'd BETTER take me back!" The seat under her fell back and the door slid back. The dash board folded under and the next second, she was in Prime's hands. She just glimpsed about herself and found they were in one of the more remote corners of Max's business district. How did he get here so fast? They weren't traveling that quickly through the streets. Or maybe she just never noticed how he never seemed to hit a red light.

"I'm sorry, Rusti. But at least you'll be plenty safe in here. And Roller will take care of you."

"WHAT!" Before she could cling to his hand like a bug that 'won't go', Rusti was dropped gently and then walls shut tight all about her. Without thinking, she scampered to her feet and pounded the door, screaming, shouting and kicking as loudly as she could. She made enough noise inside, but even Prime heard nothing outside. He walked away, ordering his trailer back into subspace.

Rusti pounded and kicked the metal doors then threw her body against them. She should know better than to try to break free. But considering the sate of mind she was in, it made no difference whether it was an Earth vehicle or a Transformer.

She wore herself out and finally the girl sank to the floor and wept. She was going to get into so much trouble at school! After a few minutes, she struggled to gain control of her emotions. She needed something to wipe her eyes and nose, but all she had with her was her jacket. Maybe she had a used tissue in here or something. Rusti searched her pockets and to her surprise, she found the paper towels she had absent-mindedly stashed from the kitchen. That's a life savor!

She blew her nose and blotted her eyes. Her make up was all ruined and she had nothing to fix it. Well, fortunately she had a little thing of lip gloss in her pocket for emergency uses, but other than that, she was screwed. Maybe she could try to reason with Optimus; make him see that this was a mistake and that he was overreacting. She stood, feeling odd being trapped inside a place she'd never seen from the inside before.

"Optimus?" she called. Well, of course, she didn't have to raise her voice; he was all around her. It made her feel eerie realizing she was inside a completely different part of Optimus Prime. Just like his other two components, he knew and felt and heard every little move or sound she made. Rusti felt a bit silly because, naturally, she's been around Transformers all her life, but the trailer was more alien than either Optimus, Roddi or Roller. "Optimus, look, this is not a . . ." oh, good grief! Her distress jumbled all the words in her brain. She frowned. "Look, this is wrong. I mean, you're not rational about this whole thing. What has Rodimus got to do with it? I'm not in any danger; I'm right here at Fort Max, what could happen to me?"

No answer.

"Optimus, come on! How about just dropping me off at my folk's house, if you're that worried?"

No response.

Rusti paced in the dark, keeping the pacing circle small since there was no light. She wrapped her arms tightly about herself. How long was he going to keep her here? He was not rational at all and it very well could be he intended to keep her here for a long time.

She could die here.

Frightened and frustrated Rusti fell to her knees and cried again. "Optimus, I don't want to stay here! It's dark and you're scaring me!"

Kram! Light flooded the whole trailer, taking the girl by surprise so that she squeaked and fell on her back. It was definitely light here now, though the light was pretty much unidirectional. At least there wasn't the piercing darkness.

BEEEP-DA-DEELEEP-DA-DA-DEEP! Roller came to life before her, maneuvering his tires side to side. Rusti felt a bit better seeing the little car there. She sniffed and glanced about her micro universe. The trailer, as she recalled, was also a battle deck complete with a remote link-up communications system, interchangeable ammunition loader capable of using any number or type of weapons with interlinking capabilities (it can use weapons from other sources and connect them to the computer). The battle deck also had a dexterous grappling arm able to load ammunition into the system on its own.

Rusti eyed it warily but it remained still. She wanted to approach Roller, but dared not move. Roller turned his tires again, promising safety, but the girl only backed away. Thoughts of Prime's poem ran through her mind. What was going to happen? Magnus was warned he may have to assassinate Optimus. She choked up again. That simply can't happen! But how could the Autobots possibly control a power they knew nothing about?

And that was something Rusti hadn't thought of before. The Autobots were in for a terrible reality check. They only think Optimus is powerful. But Rusti was quite sure he was capable of a great deal more than designing vast cities and fighting Decepticons. She still marveled how he managed to sneak into her room through the window just by pushing the metal panels ever so slightly. Maybe that was also how he snuck past security.

Max . . . Max wasn't even aware of it!

"B'Doop? Woooop eeeeda?" Roller maneuvered his tires side to side again before slowly pressing forward inch by micro inch. He was inviting her to sit. Nervously, Rusti mentally reached toward the little car and felt no malice, no intent other than her best interest. Her eyes filled with tears which silently streamed down her cheeks. The girl finally decided to approach the small spy-car, running her hand over its cool grey surface. Roller bleeped and whistled excitedly at first, then its non-vocal communication fell to a mournful noise. Rusti had no idea what it was saying and did not answer.

She had to come to terms that escape was impossible. Not only was the trailer itself soundproof, but that Optimus most likely slipped it into subspace where it was out of everyone's reach. She moped around Roller, keeping one eye on the weapons deck high above her. If it so much as twitched, she wanted to make sure she could slip under Roller for protection. It would seem that Roller was not affected by the virus, or at least, as far as the girl could tell.

Roller bleeped cheerfully in the silent gloom. Rusti still was not in a talkative mood, at least until the spy car shifted its own seats, tucking one set under and flattening the front. Even the seats themselves changed so that there was enough a cushion for her comfort.

Rusti did not smile. The grappling arms hung above her like a vulture. The missile deck remained dead still but Rusti knew 'it' knew. 'It' knew, the arm knew, the walls knew . . . the floor knew. She stood inside something that was more than alive and aware. It made her feel very small and vulnerable. Even her oxygen could be cut off and she'd suffocate far too easily.

Roller softly invited her again, beeping a high note, then a lower one. Maybe he'd make sure nothing would happen to her. Rusti was wearing down and knew she needed rest in spite of her circumstances. She pulled herself up on one of six tires and crawled along the bedding. At least the cushioning was not entirely uncomfortable. She gathered herself close to the back of the spy car and allowed her eyes to wander. Panels and doors and scanners lined the walls. Even the floor had several hatches leading to other compartments. Above her loomed a long complex of neural networks and complicated uplinks. Sometimes certain scanners flickered on for a while then shut off like a recording device. Other times there was no activity at all, or at least what Rusti could see. Not only was the trailer alive and aware, it was doing something. It must have another connection to Optimus Prime, maybe something no one else knew about.

The girl sat there for an unknown amount of time, watching scanners or discovering soft humming noises, faint beeps or clickings of a life form working.

Rusti finally gathered enough courage to cross the padding under her toward the front of the car and stared at its unusual dash board. "Roller," she said softly. "What's the deck doing? It's making funny noises all the time."

Roller bleeped several short sounds, the tones rising and falling like a voice but Rusti only frowned. So much for conversation. She didn't know why she even bothered to ask. She laid her head on the coverlet and just stared at the wheelless dashboard. She almost closed her eyes when a screen flickered on and words scrolled across it. She sat up, realizing the little car was communicating to her.

THE DECK COMMUNICATES WITH THE CITY. IT WATCHES. IT LISTENS.

Her brows knitted. "What . . . what's it watching and listening for?"

IT WATCHES AND LISTENS. THE CITY ABOVE AND THE CITY BELOW. AND THE CITY TO THE NORTH. IT WATCHES ALL WHO WALK ALONG THE PANELS. IT LISTENS TO THE WALLS. IT LISTENS TO THE MOUNTAINS AND THE ROADWAYS.

Rusti's expression remained tight with puzzlement. She took a longer glance about her surroundings and started to guess that chances were, pretty much what Max knows, Optimus Prime knew it too. Except that unlike Max, Optimus was also aware of Central City. The deck was far more than a mere war weapon or a storage compartment; it was an extension of Prime's own senses, his empathy and knowledge of where he was and with whom at any given time. THIS was how Optimus was able to keep an eye on the two cities. If only the Decepticons knew . . .

Now another thought occurred to her: if the deck gave Optimus the necessary information needed to run a city and therefore an entire society, what would a power like that do if corrupted by the Matrix virus?

"Ohmigod," she whispered. She barely imagined the magnitude of the problem the Autobots and Central City faced.

They, however, had no idea whatsoever.

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THIS IS PATRICIA NORSE FOR THE KSUN NEWS BRIEF. FIFTY-SIX PEOPLE DIED TODAY WHEN BUILDING OFFICES ON THE CORNER OF NORTH AND LODI STREETS MELTED. WITNESSES CLAIM THE EVENT HAPPENED SO FAST, NO ONE COULD RESCUE THE EMPLOYEES IN TIME. MEANWHILE LORRIAINE ALDEREZ OF NORTH CENTRAL WAS RELEASED FROM THE HOSPITAL AFTER THE WALLS IN HER APARTMENT ALLEGEDLY ABSORBED HER AND HER FAMILY IN. THERE HAS BEEN NO SIGN OF ALDEREZ'S HUSBAND AND THREE CHILDREN. ALDEREZ, DIAGNOSED WITH ACUTE DEPRESSION AFTER HER RESCUE BY NEIGHBORS, IS BEING MONITORED.

IN OTHER NEWS, SCIENTISTS FROM OSU, CENTRAL CITY ARE STILL TRYING TO DETERMINE THE CAUSE OF METAL WALLS RISING AROUND FORT MAX. ATTEMPTS TO COMMUNICATE WITH AUTOBOT CITY, OREGON HAVE FAILED. OREGON GOVERNOR KEITH STENSON HAS REQUESTED ASSISTANCE OF THE NATIONAL GUARD AFTER THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ALMOST FIFTY PEOPLE IN THE LAST MONTH AND SIXTEEN BODIES FOUND NEAR AUTOBOT RIVER. POLICE CHIEF JAX TOLOMSKY DENIES ANY SUSPICIONS REGARDING INVOLVEMENT OF THE DOPPLEGANGER CULT, OR COINCIDENTAL EVENTS AROUND FORTRESS MAXIMUS, BUT SAYS THE POLICE DEPARTMENT IS ON HIGH ALERT STATUS.

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DANCE 8

Tempra sat close to Magnus as he lay face down on straps. A machine slowly extracted the poisons from his systems while another tube fed him 'soft' energon. First Aid had to repair the City Commander in stages and in the last two days, it proved a nightmare. Magnus presently recuperated from a short but intense session in therapy. The damage done to his systems, while not wholly life-threatening, was substantial. Tempra did not pretend everything was well. She knew Ultra Magnus did not want to hear good news-even if there was some. She set four of five digipads on the floor and activated the one in her hands and rubbed her mended shoulder.

"You requested I keep you up to date today, Commander." she informed in a sharp, expressionless voice.

Magnus only grunted. His optics flickered on but the tube stemming from his mouth would not permit verbal communication. "Kup has refused all incoming traffic to Upper Level and diverted it to Central City. He says they're still fighting that 'ghost fire' that keeps reoccurring there along the runway and has sent the Aerialbots to Metroplex. Kup also reports the walls have risen another twenty-six nactons (see Glossary)'

'Blaster has returned to duty and says he can't get any communication outside of Fort Max. He gets communication coming in, but nothing leaves. He's examining the problem even as we speak. And, Commander, Captain Fairborn says she has not seen Rusti since night before last. She said Rusti was last seen in Central Command, in the kitchen getting ice cream. That was it."

Magnus weakly waved his left hand, indicating that was enough for now, that he needed to shut down. Tempra read the signal and gathered the rest of the pads. "I'll be back later, sir. About two or three hours." Magnus used the Human's thumbs-up sign and Tempra departed, leaving the Major-General feeling a little hopeless.

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Rodimus carefully picked his way around Optimus' garden. He wasn't sure if the elusive Senior Prime would be here or not, but he had hopes. The floor was littered with shattered pottery, dead plants, fertilizer, soil and pieces of metal. Roddi picked up such a piece and examined it. To the uneducated, it looked like a piece of thick wiring. For a Transformer, it was a piece of hydronic cabling; the system by which joints and internals receive lubricant or rebuilding materials as transferred by nactocells coursing through the body of each living machine. If that was the case, then the other metal fragments tossed along the floor like so much confetti must be of similar material.

Rodimus' optics darkened in suspicion. "O-o-o-o-o-pti-mu-u-u-u-ussss." he softly sang. Roddi treaded along a bit more cautiously. "O-o-o-op-pti-mus-s-s." The metal bits and pottery crunched under his feet, clearly giving him away. But Rodimus continued to sneak about, straining his neck side to side, up and down in search of his 'co-conspirator'. Most of the long-leafed plants housed in the garden were ripped to pieces. A couple of large trees; gifts from Ambassador Duko when 'he' was a 'she' lay sliced in shards on the ground. A few windows to the west were dismantled and lay flat on the benches, slowly smothering new ferns. Other windows were marred with the blue blood of a possible Autobot victim. And to his right, Roddi's guess proved true. There sat the head of Headmaster Hosehead, a puddle of blue and dark green blood seeped from under it; indicating that not only was Hosehead dead, but his Nebulon Interface, Lug, was also gone.

The sharp cold end of a vibro-blade touched the back of Roddi's neck and he automatically froze.

"Tag. You're it."

Hearing Optimus whisper so quietly frightened the Second. But rather than letting on how he felt, Roddi easily slipped into his 'jolly' side. "Optimus! Doing some spring cleaning, I see. What's up with Hosehead? Did you run into him or something?"

"What's it to you?" Prime's voice remained quiet but disturbingly dangerous.

Rodimus almost could not believe his audio sensors. "Ha! Uh, well, you can't just go around killing people. It's potentially barbaric."

Prime eyed him sternly. "As you would know, Rodimus. What does it matter, anyway?"

Roddi crossed his arms. "Well, it matters, Prime. It just does. You can't get away with doing something like that because . . . because!"

But it did not impress the Senior Prime and Optimus, now facing Rodimus, leaned against the table containing several dead and neglected plants and crossed his arms. "It was NOT my fault he would not give me pass to the ionic generator. I asked him nicely. Then I ordered him. Then I sternly ordered him." Prime's optics fell dark, almost red. "I am in command here."

Rodimus did not like that tone. He matched Prime's pose, crossing his own arms and a mask of obstinacy turned his lip components downward. "Your actions have endangered the city and its people, Optimus Prime. You cannot continue this irrational rampage just because you're dissatisfied with results. Look at what you did to Ultra Magnus! He'll be recuperating for weeks. The outside world is afraid because now we have walls standing around Fort Max. No one can contact us; no one can leave the city. It that what you want? Prime, they've sent the National Guard and even as we speak, they're surrounding the city. They 'will' attack unless you surrender."

Optimus laughed softly and it was not a pleasant laugh. "The little humans are arrogant enough to think they have the technology and the power-even "YOU" can best them. I don't know what the concern is all about. They're upset over nothing."

Roddi realized Optimus was playing a game of guess-and-dare. "Where is she, Optimus?"

"Who, Rodimus?"

"DROP THE GAME, PRIME! WHERE IS RUSTI!"

"Don't take the tone of voice with ME, Rodimus. I will not tolerate it."

Roddi's optics narrowed. "Are you going to tell me where Rusti is, or shall I tear the whole city plate by plate until I find her?"

"You won't find her." Prime answered cooly. "She's not for you." Optimus easily dodged as Rodimus hefted a large planter and its tree and tossed them.

"THEN I'LL TEAR THIS WHOLE GODDAMNED CITY APART-I'LL TEAR 'YOU' APART UNTIL I FIND THAT GIRL! I'M TRYING TO SAVE US! I'M TRYING TO SAVE US ALL AND YOU'RE STANDING IN THE WAY!"

Rodimus made a slight miscalculation: he didn't think about where he was standing and he did not think about how his counterpart might feel about him destroying one of his plants, even though Optimus had already destroyed a good number of them himself. Because he allowed himself to be distracted by his own temper, Rodimus did not see Optimus move and the Senior Prime swept him off his feet and threw him out the window. Rodimus fell three stories before managing to grab hold of the ledge of an opened window. He looked up as Prime stared down at him.

"I'm no longer in your way, now, Rodimus Prime. You may go and do as you please." Optimus noticed on-lookers observing their personal conflict from the ground. Paratron 'citizens' a couple of EDC officers and Technobot Strafe all stared and Optimus thought he read fear and judgment in their optics. It was time to teach them all to leave him alone. His optics reached for the sun and a shadow flitted across his face, darkening his optics. "It's too bright." he muttered. Then he withdrew.

Rodimus dared to glance down and found he did not have that much further to fall. He softly swore revenge then let go, his form falling to the metal flooring below. He recovered and as he stood, he noticed how three female Paratrons and Strafe searched the skies with puzzled faces. Rodimus also looked up and watched as clouds, dark and white, skittered as though time itself pressed faster than what was natural. Dark spots smudged the sun from the center. It was not an eclipse; the sun was being purposefully blotted out.

The world watched either physically or over television as the sun lost its power to darkness. Solar equipment failed and many a business had to close their doors. Governments in every country held emergency meetings while the media scampered for experts to answer all their questions. Little by little, day turned to night. In ten minutes, it looked as though sun had died, casting the whole world into a pit of fear.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 9

Rusti awoke dazed and weak. She lay on a soft cloud of maroon velvet and silk covers. Her eyes stared at the ceiling of a prison with bars of polished gold. Gazing right, she found a card table and chair just her size. A shelf stood near that loaded with books and drawing tools.

Wait a minute . . . none of this was right. She sat up and found even her clothes were changed. The gown she wore was pretty, but . . . . She shook her head, puzzled. What happened?

"I took you away," came a soft, familiar voice.

She found Prime staring at her. From his seating position, she could tell he watched her for some time. The girl took to her feet, a little unsteady at first and touched the bars. She snapped her hand back, fearful they might be electric.

They were not.

"I won't hurt you, Rusti." He promised.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked calmly.

"I don't know. It's a game, I think."

"A game?" She carefully repeated. "You think?" She dropped the anger in her voice. She was in no position to snap at him. They were in his garden; she could tell by the multitude of plants, but the garden had been rearranged, the building structure about them reshaped into compartments and windows were changed so there were fewer of them. The plants weren't exactly the same, either. Many of them were dead from decapitation. Others were smashed to pieces. Three planters had the limbs of an Autobot rising from the soil. She didn't want to guess; she didn't want to know. But she needed to ask. "Optimus, what's happened to the garden? Where are the dragon trees and the copper lilies? Where are the crystal roses and the Daphne trees? Where are the morphabots?

He gave her a deeply sad expression, "they're not coming back, Rusti. All their children are dead." She choked back a sob. He was so careful around the garden. He loved it here. He stared at her, into her, through her and beyond with a set of darkened optics. It made her uncomfortable. "Do you think I've lost my mind, Rusti?"

She batted her eyes in disbelief. "Optimus, did you know I have school tomorrow? Will this last much longer?"

"Just answer the question." His voice turned icy.

Fear welled up in her heart and she found in her weakened condition she had to sit down. "Yes." She said ever so softly.

He came close to her little prison. "And what do you think they will do about it?"

She swallowed hard. "Possibly nothing." She gazed at him, now fearful of his optics. "Perhaps assassinate you."

"You and they both believe I'm insane. But what about Rodimus? Isn't he also mad?"

She wrapped her arms about herself and could not look at him anymore. "Optimus, this really isn't funny. You can't do this."

"But I don't 'feel' insane, Rusti."

Now she looked at him again. "You kidnapped me! You attacked Ultra Magnus and . . . oh, Primus knows what you did to him! She stood, arms wide open, "and, and THIS! THIS! What is THIS all about? Is that a dead Autobot over there? Why did you drag me into it? GAWD, of all things, Optimus, WHY are you dragging me into it?"

"I knew if I didn't get you first, Rodimus would. And I can't have him prove himself better than me."

"OH! You're both the Autobot leader! Since when has it mattered who's better? This whole thing is ridiculous! You can't keep me here like this! I have school tomorrow."

"No, Rusti. Tomorrow is Saturday. There is no school on Saturday."

Her blood froze. "But . . . but it was Wednesday night and I had papers due . . . Ohmigod, I've lost track of time!"

"Yes. Subspace will do that. The body does not recognize time passing." Prime stood and paced about the enclosure and poured himself a little energon. "I remember a time when the Autobots tried several experiments in subspace. They stored energon, to see if it would keep. They stored the injured with hopes they would last whatever war was occurring at the time. Yes, the body does not recognize time in subspace, but it breaks down after a while. All the molecules decide they don't want to be together anymore and so they drift apart. It's sad. I've seen Decepticons do that to their political prisoners. Send them into subspace for a couple of years then drag them out and the poor souls think it's still the same day as they left, but their bodies disintegrate the minute they leave subspace and just . . . fly all apart. It's so sad, Rusti. It's all so sad."

Rusti lay down and sighed heavily. How could she possibly talk her way out of this one? "Ultra Magnus and Springer will be looking for me, Optimus. And I'm sure my folks will be worried."

"Yes. Strike Back is looking for you as we speak. But he's young and for all he's worth, Kup will try to help out, too. But I've decided to make Kup a decoration. I find him a bit annoying sometimes and I'm sure he'll be very demanding. So I decided to put him away for a while."

Rusti choked. "You're not going to kill him, are you?"

He tilted his head, a bit perplexed. "Why?"

"Well, what will the Autobots do? What will they think?"

"It doesn't matter what they think."

Rusti felt sick. "Optimus . . . if you kill Kup, you'll regret it later." It was the only bit of rational argument she could think of.

Optimus seemed to take this into consideration. "Oh, yes. Regret. Regret and I. It appears to be a part of my name." He turned away and the girl realized the dark sky above them. Prime hopped on the window ledge overlooking the city to the east. He glanced several stories down toward the stupid fountain, gushing more water than normal.

Rusti moped about her little prison. She felt like a doll in some fairytale giant's house. The carpet was soft under her bare feet and the girl wondered how long this was going to last. Optimus said Rodimus was trying to get to her too. Why? What was she to them now? The girl sat on the floor next to the bed and wondered if her grandfather Spike ever went through this. No, she decided. There was no Virus at the time.

Short of being rescued by someone other than Rodimus, how was she going to escape? She knew nothing about picking locks and she was no athlete without her exo-suit. What a sorry time to be without it!

At least Optimus saw to it her every comfort was afforded. And that was when another thought occurred to her. How was he able to slip in and out of Central Command without anyone hearing or seeing him? The building must have been surrounded by people!

"Optimus?" She barely spoke it, but knew the Autobot leader was able to pick it up. Optimus was fully aware of everything around him, now.

"Yes, Rusti." His voice came soft, but not in the same tones she loved to hear.

She cleared her throat. "Central Command . . . there were a lot of people there. But you seemed to show up from nowhere and took me away and before I knew it, we were in the Business District. I've never, ever seen you do that before, nor have I ever heard anyone ever mentioning you being able to do that. And can Roddi do it, too?"

He paused a moment: " . . . My personal disappearing acts?"

"Yes."

"Very simple. Every Transformer comes with personal subspace pockets. Each mode has certain equipment that is unusable or extraneous in another form and therefore, the subspace pockets are a way of 'tucking' those parts away. Anyone who knows where they are can enter and exit them like space warp gates. But I'm the only one who knows where they all lie." Here Rusti could tell Prime smiled, "even Rodimus doesn't know where they all are."

Rusti thought about his answer for a moment then came to another conclusion: "So, you use your own subspace fields to enter and exit his subspace pockets like opening and closing a door."

"That's correct."

She was impressed. He applied a simple rule in Transformer biological physics and made it look like magic. "And that's how you were able to sneak around the city, even with Kup looking for you?"

Optimus moved from the window and fingered a nearby plant. He didn't bother to fuss over its dying state. "Well, Kup is still a nuisance. I can't let him run around the city like an infectious glitch mouse."

There did not seem to be any way of deterring Prime from eliminating the chief of security. Rusti feared death was inevitable for the old Autobot. What could she say to make Prime change his mind? "Well, Optimus, you did say something about making him a decoration . . . I suppose it'd be safe to make him a 'living' decoration. You don't have to kill him to keep him out of your path, do you?"

Optimus took a deep draught of energon. "You know, there's that . . . temple in the business district that is a bit of an optical sore spot. Of course, I don't say anything because the Norgers have the right to worship as they see fit, even if it is a certain tree from another planet. I could do something there."

Naturally Rusti thought the whole idea of using Kup to decorate (desecrate?) Someone's church was a bit obscene. But considering the alternative, at least his life would be spared.

She finally decided to get a bit of rest somewhere toward the middle of night-and she knew it was night only because the half-phased moon rose behind a scattering of cold November clouds. The constellation of Taurus the Bull and Orion peeked over the edge of the garden windows. But Rusti fell sound asleep before calculating whether they were from the south or east.

The city fell to distress. Fewer cars and far less foot traffic dared the streets and sidewalks. Most citizens, including Autobots, Humans and interstellar aliens took refuge in Max's lower levels. It seemed the wisest thing to do was wait.

Rodimus counted all the cars as he zipped up one street and down another. The city tonight was truly his. He ran red lights and purposefully smashed into stop signs. He took pot-shots at those brave (or stupid) enough to walk the streets. He didn't bother to see if he had killed or wounded anyone-a waste of time, anyway. Rodimus found a good 'stopping point' and transformed. All quiet on the home front, he thought to himself. He stared at the intersection between Issex Street and Pathway Avenue and determined it would be good enough a place. He strolled along the lines of a large panel then glanced from one street light to the other.

First, he thought, the lights had to go. This was his city tonight and no 'fill-in-the-blanks' road rules were going to slow him down. If people got in the way, well, that was 'their' fault for being there to begin with. And speaking of which, Rodimus spotted a couple of young men crossing the street.

"Morons!" He shouted at them. "GO HOME!" He whipped out his laser rifle and made three clumsy shots. The two about jumped out of their skins and they dashed round the nearest corner. Rodimus ignored them after that and started to pry the large plating from its roots. He was well aware that the piece was larger than he and did not care. After 'fussing' with it for twenty minutes, Rodimus successfully managed to get his fingers under it and lifted it, literally ripping it off Maximus' infrastructure. He faintly heard a moan in the wind. The city itself was in pain but Rodimus ignored it. He was on a mission and if it meant spilling a little energon, well, that's too bad.

He laid six devices along a few pathways and activated them. Then he let the plating fall back into place. It didn't seem to fit right when it fell, but the Autobot Second didn't mind. After all, someone else will come along and drive over it and it'll flatten out then.

With that job done, Rodimus resumed his auto mode and zoomed about the mostly-emptied streets of Fortress Maximus. He passed by several other buildings between the EDC district and Communications. A few of them were melting. Rodimus wondered if there was a way to reverse the process. It was so eerie watching as the metal structures melted like candles. He also wondered how many people died in them, if any at all. He was more hopeful than certain that no one of any consequence died. After all, it's hard to run a city when all the important people, the professionals, have died.

Something vibrated under his tires. Roddi stopped to listen. There was no sound, but the vibrations were strong and kept coming.

Unknown to Rodimus at the time, the National Guard arrived with close to 1500 soldiers, all armed and prepared for the worst. Twenty-three laser cannon tanks and 'battle chargers' surrounded Fortress Maximus. Colonel Atworth Patcherson waited impatiently while his communications officer tried for twenty minutes to contact Autobot City. But she received either static or dead silence. Patcherson and his squad arrived in Douglas County early that morning and watched in dread as the sun, by two o'clock that afternoon, mysteriously disappeared. His own wife called two hours later to inform him one of their cars, his 1972 Pinto, bled through the chassis then melted altogether. Patcherson tried to put it behind him. The car, now worthless, was a gift from his grandfather.

Patcherson waited another forty-five minutes before ordering a stop to all attempted communications. He radioed HQ that he was going to bomb the walls. Authorization was swiftly forwarded and although Patcherson had bad feelings about the faces protruding from the walls themselves, there was a job to be done.

He shouted the command for all troops to prepare to fire wide-field plasma bombs. At least when they fire on the city, it would only result in a big fire, rather than rocking and shaking the place to kingdom come. They wanted the Autobots to surrender their leaders, not killed for them.

The command was passed from troop to troop until troop leaders radioed their readiness. Patcherson calculated all the areas of impact based on strategically non-populated areas: mainly city streets, parks and, of course, the erected walls surrounding the city. He assigned a location to each troop leader and they returned with the coordinates aimed.

"FIRE!"

Not one human officer saw it coming. None knew the extent of the alien power they faced. It might be said that every one of them fell to deaf and blindness mere nanoseconds before their death. But the only two who survived to tell, found themselves paralyzed into shock. Not only did the fire power of the plasma bombs bounce back, but a powerful gamma-wave life force shot out from the walls and incinerated the entire squad in one fell assault. After that, the iridescent fire-light image of a dragon reared its head from the center of the city and opened its mouth in a silent roar before returning to the streets below.

---------------------------------------

Upon feeling the power of the Matrix lash out, Rodimus realized he had to work fast if he was going to save the world. He dropped his present task and shifted to auto mode. He raced through the EDC complex, taking the back roads of the Communications District and transformed before Central Command.

"OPTIMUS!" he called with both his voice and the comline. One way or another, Prime was bound to hear him. "OPTIMUS! COME OUT HERE NOW!"

Presently, Optimus made his appearance from the topmost level of the six-story building. He leaned out and down like a spoiled child of nobility stares down at the rabble. "It's close to sunrise, Rodimus. You'll need your sleep soon."

"I'm here to take Rusti, cure the Matrix and-heh-save the universe, if it deserves to be saved." Rodimus started to pace impatiently. "NOW HAND HER OVER!"

Optimus backed out a little, staring up at the sky as the sun tried to climb out of its blanket of darkness. But Optimus deemed the sky was not worthy of such light. Earth was not worthy of such holiness.

"Ohhh . . . the poor little people," he softly sang. "No sunlight to insure their troubled mind; only fear and grief will they find. No comforting thoughts, only death and loss. Hmmmm . . . hmmmhmmm . . . poor little people."

Around the world, he sensed how people scampered for answers. Panic caused businesses to close. People shut themselves up in their homes with stored food and supplies. Frightened children huddled about their mothers for comfort. Yes, he'd been there once himself. He remembered feeling frightened, wondering if there would be another tomorrow. He knew that feeling all too well. He recalled lying in pieces along a desert floor, in horrible agony and destitute. Day after nightmarish day, burned by the sun and frozen by the moon.

And then, too, he recalled the evils of a demon possessed machine known only as the robo-smasher and darker still, Optimus remembered the burning and agony as the Quintessons fed on his soul. He remembered all that.

No. There need be no light. Not today. Not tomorrow.

He glanced down at his Second-well, more like 'the other Prime' rather than a 'Second' and shook his head. "There will be no sunrise today, Rodimus. And you'll be feeding no baby birds."

And with that, Prime again withdrew to his garden. Rodimus stood there, a bit confused for the moment. Then his sensors said 'here comes the sun!' but no sun came. No light to the world, no heat to warm Fort Max of the cold Oregon night.

His plans were foiled. Rodimus' optics narrowed and flared. Chances were, Optimus knew about all the stupid little traps he'd planted around town, too. He wasted his time! It was all a g'thaking waste of time!

Infuriated beyond reason, Rodimus ripped out the nearest street light and with all his might, shattered the remaining front windows. It made a very agreeable noise, but for Rodimus, it wasn't enough. He yanked out the nearest sign post and smashed the walls then busted a few second-storey windows with the remains. It still wasn't enough. Rodimus decided to cure his temper with speed. He transformed and shot away, speeding down one road, recklessly veering on right or left turns. He slammed into whatever stood in his way be it light posts, street lights, mail boxes or other cars. It made no difference. If Rodimus felt any pain at all, it was the pain of being eaten from the inside. Something dark and bitter gnawed at him and the pain churned and clogged his ability to reason and caused anger to sizzle his logic circuits. Once again Rodimus zipped straight into the EDC district. He slammed into the cafeteria, transformed and blasted one tree, another then three more. He demolished those things he could not physically reach and obliterated a statue raised in honor of those who died at the space dock by Warp Gate 09-A in 2006.

It wasn't enough. But he grinned when a familiar sound entered his sonar range. Rodimus turned in the middle of the debris field and greeted Optimus as the older Autobot transformed. "Are you here to spank me and put me to bed without dinner?" Roddi leered.

"Buildings don't fight back, Rodimus."

Roddi mocked shock. "Why, you're right! Max might be a little sore by tomorrow!" Prime drew his laser rifle. Rodimus gasped again, however, it was only show. "Why, Optimus! Reduced to violence? What a surprise!"

"Rodimus, I know what you've done. I may have to remove your quarters and place you elsewhere."

Rodimus feigned innocence. "Me? Me? Hahaha! Prime, you can't put anything over on me. Who allowed all those buildings to melt? What about the reports from Central City? Did you do that, too? How about the walls around the damned city, Prime? You think I'm a monster because I put a few people to work of a different kind-some of them 'pose' for me and others give me therapy. I don't know what's wrong with that." Then Roddi's expression went stern. "Now, where's Rusti?"

Optimus slowly, silently shook his head.

He wasn't going to give in. Rodimus cursed himself for underestimating Optimus Prime-again! It was time to get back. He jerked to motion and kicked the gun from Optimus' grip. Prime fell and Rodimus leapt. He would have landed right on his opponent, except Optimus caught him in mid air with one foot and Prime tossed him effortlessly overhead. Optimus flipped to his feet, light and wary.

Rodimus landed harmlessly on the littered ground. He grinned. Yeah. This was what he was after. He sprung forward from all fours and aimed a leap kick in Prime's face. But Optimus caught the foot.

"One, two feel my shoe!" Rodimus twisted from the other side and kicked Prime in the audio. Optimus lost his grip and flew but rebounded effortlessly. He said nothing as he grabbed a shard of metal and dug his feet into the metal plating for extra leverage as he lunged for Rodimus.

Rodimus ripped up a part of the metal paneling, using it as a shield between them. Optimus didn't see that tactic and fell for it. "Haha! Three, four eat the floor!" He sang. From there, he pounced Optimus and the two rolled about the flooring for control over the other. Finally Optimus grunted hard and flipped Rodimus right off him. Roddi bounced with the impact, using the momentum to grab a nearby light pole and swung around it, kicking Prime in the backside.

"Five, six, have some kicks!" he added to the song.

Optimus skidded along the ground, feeling every little glass and metal shard laying over the flooring. He rolled and instantly returned to his feet. But Rodimus' foot met his mandible and the momentum tossed him upside down and backward. Optimus was accustomed to this kind of tactic however and used his position to transform to truck mode and aimed to mow his opponent down.

Rodimus startled and ran; a bad thing to do. Optimus caught him in the back side and Roddi again went flying, this time right into a wall. This was not as bad a situation as it might seem to the inexperienced fighter, however. Rodimus simply turned and scaled the wall, using one window ledge, then another, like a monkey up a tree. When Optimus neared close enough and transformed to robot mode, Rodimus plunged straight down. The two hit the ground and rolled until Roddi was on Prime's back then lifted Optimus' chin so that his own arm guns were aimed right at the neck.

"Seven, eight," he whispered, "I've sealed your fate!"

"Not quite." Prime somehow threw the lower half of his body upward and once again slammed Rodimus into the wall. He completed the move by gracefully landing on his feet. Prime recalled his weapon from subspace then pointed at the opposition. "Nine, ten, Rodimus Prime. Let's do this again!"

Rodimus aimed a kick, but it was anticipated and Prime pressed forward, meaning to make him one with the wall. But Rodimus knew he was going to try that so he ducked between Prime's legs and rolled head under heels along the ground. He sprang like a frog and fired using his arm guns. But Optimus guessed that tactic and dodged right. Rodimus shouted incoherently and transformed, trashing plants, signs or decorations in his path. He recklessly slammed over sidewalks and through fences between three then four buildings.

But Optimus was nowhere to be seen. Rodimus consulted his radar then sonar and nothing showed up. He transformed and scanned with different wavelengths. "Optimus . . ." he called softly. "This isn't very sporting of you. Come on back. I'll play more fairly, I promise. You'll die quick and painless."

_Not today, Rodimus._ Prime's voice filled with mockery and Rodimus tried not to be angry over it.

New tactic: "Optimus, maybe we can settle this another way. You go on a long and extended vacation and Magnus and I will put all the pieces back together."

_Not likely, Rodimus. _

"RRRRRAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH! COME OUT HERE AND FIGHT ME, YOU G'THAKING COWARD! ARE YOU SO AFRAID I'M GOING TO BEAT YOU TO FILAMENTS THAT YOU'RE NOT WILLING TO MEET ME FACE TO FACE! I'VE BEATEN GALVATRON ON 'SEVERAL' OCCASIONS. Maybe . . . just maybe I'm too much of a match for you, Optimus!" And Roddi grinned maliciously.

_Heh, 'Goldbug' could have knocked the filth out of Galvatron, Rodimus. Your credentials are not that impressive. _

Rodimus was infuriated enough to pull his own optics out and he stumbled about like a drunk, unable to decide whether he wanted to scream or hit something.

_Tell you what:_ Optimus came back over the comline, _if you catch her as she falls, you can have Rusti. But only if you catch. Deal? _

The girl! He was finally giving up the girl! No! Trap! Yes, it was a dirty little trap! But at the cost of finally getting the girl and setting things right . . . it 'would' be worth the risk, that's for sure. "And what's in it for you, Prime? A little chit-chat with the girl? Hmm?"

_I just like to see you run, Rodimus, that's all. _Optimus teased._ You run like a Human. I find it . . . amusing. _

That certainly was not funny and Rodimus transformed and raced for Rusti's life.

Rusti awoke when she heard Prime's footfalls along the flooring. She sat up and noticed the scratches and dents all over his chassis. "Optimus, what are you doing?"

He gazed at her over his shoulder strut, but with purple optics, flashing over with black shadows. "PROVING BETTER BETWEEN US."

Rusti caught her breath in her throat and flinched. That was not Optimus' voice. It was drowned, cold. It vibrated with the drones of an alien tone. She shuddered. "I-I'd like to talk to Optimus, please. I . . . I don't think you're him."

"I. VOID. DESOLATE."

The voice made her feel as though a long black-bladed knife sliced her soul. Rusti didn't want to hear it anymore. The Virus lifted the top of her cage and Optimus' large strong hand gripped her so that he knocked the wind from her. Rusti vainly struggled and feared the worst. "Please . . ." she whispered, "whatever you're going to do . . . don't!"

He dangled her in the cool air, six stories from the ground and the wind caught in her throat. Rusti lost her voice amid heart-racing panic. Her eyes watered with tears. "Optimus!" she finally cried, "Don't do this! Don't let that thing make you do this!" Then she found her strength as her feet swung in the breeze. The gown was no protection from the cold. "OPTIMUS! YOU'VE GOT TO FIGHT IT! OHMIGOD, DON'T DROP ME!"

Air stifled her cry. The building grew larger and larger before her, not because it was growing, but because she was falling.

Optimus spotted Rodimus just down the block and he jumped out and easily landed then charged as Rodimus transformed to attain the prize.

But Rodimus never got his hands on Rusti.


	7. Blood Lust

TRANSFORMERS: Devil's Dance

Chapter 7

BLOOD LUST

"Everything beautiful bleeds."  
Eastman and Laird's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Rusti ran the length of the hallway, heedless of its dark interior. She did not know where her feet led her. Her red hair flowed freely, bouncing with each rushed step. Her skin tightened in the cool air. Echoes of voices whispered incoherently. Memories, they might have been or voices of people who lived in times far beyond the existence of Humans.

Her feet stopped and Rusti closed her eyes as a gentle Song milked through her soul. A voice resonated in a beautiful but grief-stricken tone, in a language long since forgotten. Rusti considered the Music and the words. The language was not actually forgotten, but alien; neither Transformer or Human. She turned to the wall and touched it, half expecting it to ripple like water.

It snapped, clicked and sang in high-pitched tones. The panels before her shifted up and down or side to side like a puzzle. One small plate lowered before her and a blue optical sensor connected to a double-jointed arm complete with wires and lines bearing glowing fluids advanced toward her like an arm. It spoke with a slight echo and three different vocal pitches. At first Rusti could not understand it. She stood and stared.

It spoke again now using either a different dialect, or another language. The words came slow and slurred. Rusti still did not answer. The optical sensor remained silent for a moment longer then withdrew. The panels shifted back to their first pattern. The girl turned to resume her path down the corridor when a shape pressed from the wall just enough for Rusti to recognize a face. She turned to respond.

"I am not Prime. Why do you follow me?"

A female answered with a slow, solemn voice, "you Breathe his Breath. You are not him, but you Breathe and I love . . ."

CLEAR!

A shocking thunderous noise shot through Rusti's ears and the dream vanished. Sharp pains sliced into her and her eyes snapped open. A hurricane of noise whipped about her and she struggled to cover her ears but her arms would not obey. She tried to tell the world to be silent. She wanted to return to the quiet lonely corridor and talk to the face again.

"RESONNA!"

She didn't respond. That wasn't her name.

"RESONNA!" No matter how the voice shouted, it sounded in drowned tones. A bright light shot out and the girl dimly recalled jokes about the light at the end of a tunnel.

Wait a minute. She was in a tunnel of sorts, was she not? Was I dead?

"You could be." It was the same female's voice. "Very few are given the choice to die or remain alive. You can come and stay with me. You can come to the Gate."

The Gate? Rusti's sluggish mind scanned the horizons and landscapes of her memory for reference. She spotted a few empty valleys for some reason; landscapes that should have had trees, structures and mountains. There! The Gate. It was Optimus that told her about it once. The Gate was a place in the Matrix-a Gateway to Heaven. Yes, now she remembered.

"It would kill him if I died." she assumed.

"Yes." The answer was so certain that it frightened her.

She thought for a moment longer. "Is it my time to go?"

"No. Listen to the Music, Rusti. Listen to the Music."

CLEAR!

Someone stabbed her with two vibro-blades and her body jerked with shock.

Again her eyes shot open and she gasped, coughed, then gagged. She started crying. Shock and pain swept over her body. The horrible light finally swung away. Voices surrounded her and one familiar voice entered her ears as her cold body was covered. "Rusti, hon, you're going to be okay!"

Focus. Focus. There! She was in a stark white room and three medical staff stood at the foot of the bed talking in garbled tones. Beside her sat Aunt Missy.

A loud masculine voice shouted unnecessarily into her ear. "RESONNA? RESONNA, CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"Yessss . . ." her feeble voice failed to convey her annoyance.

"Resonna, do you know what the date is?"

His words echoed about her head, their meaning bouncing back and forth. The date? What was so damned important about the date? What a stupid question. It 'was' a stupid question! But . . . she really couldn't remember what it was.

"WHAT YEAR IS IT, RESONNA?"

Year, year, year . . .and her name was Rusti, dingbat! "Twenty thirty-four." she finally answered.

"Okay. Resonna-"

That was Doctor Cynyr's voice, she was sure of it. Was she in the hospital? Most likely. Rusti feebly shook her head.

"Resonna, I have to tell you some bad news." His firm voice rang too loudly in her ear, "it's 2036, 14 November. Do you remember any of that, now?"

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO!" Marissa grabbed the doctor's arms, eyes flaming.

She did not remember. The girl shook her head and kept her eyes on Aunt Missy as Fairborn and Cynyr snapped at one another in low tones. Not surprisingly, Marissa won and Doctor Cynyr walked away. He muttered something, but Rusti did not hear it. She sleepily turned to Captain Fairborn. "What happened to me?"

"You fell, Rusti. A long way down from Central Command. Somehow you managed to keep your head together enough to make sure you landed feet first. But the water was very deep and we think you might have hit your head."

"I fell?"

Marissa nodded gravely. "We think you might have been trying to escape. No one was there, so we're not sure."

"Then how . . . how . . .?"

Fairborn merely kissed the girl's brow. "Sleep, Sweety." The two ladies searched the ceiling as thunder banged loudly overhead.

"A thunderstorm!" Rusti weakly smiled.

"I'm afraid not, Hon. Optimus and Rodimus . . ." she met the girl's eyes. " . . . they're fighting."

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DANCE 10

Rodimus lost wind as he smashed through a wall into an office building. He merely shrugged off the pain, transformed and crashed his way out the other end. This was part of the Business District's Riverpark; an eight-block radius boasting of such organization extensions as Proctor & Gamble, Sony, Boeing, Berger Ent. Starbucks, and a few alien companies such as Light Touch or Smat Industries. Rodimus' form just trashed the lower level of Proctor & Gamble. While the business might not appreciate all their things smashed into microscopic bits, they would sooner or later be compensated for it. After all, Optimus had enough a sense of humor to make sure Fort Max had insurance.

Roddi drove down three blocks looking for Optimus. Already the two had ripped up three main roadways between Central Command and the business district, obliterated four buildings and broke the piping along Treadway and Eastbound Avenue.

Magnus was not going to be happy. But Roddi couldn't care less. It was the City Commander's job to make sure things were kept up.

And speaking of which, where was the Big Guy, anyway?

Rodimus cursed himself in three different languages when something hard slammed his back and sent him flying again. He rolled with impact on the floor as Optimus came leaping out of nowhere. Rodimus lifted his legs, caught Prime in the thorax with the bottoms of his feet and jettisoned the co-commander in another direction. Optimus smashed into a nearby building and disappeared. Damn! He was good at this! He'd hide and then leap from almost nowhere. How he managed to escape Roddi's sensors was annoying. What frequency was he on? Or was it that Optimus was able to sink into the city's body itself and come out another place? Well, that was absurd, even for an Autobot leader. A Prime can do many things, but shadow-slipping wasn't one of them.

Rodimus picked his way carefully, glancing left to right, listening for the slightest crunch, or the tiniest creak. "O-o-o-optim-u-u-u-u-u-u-s-s-s-s!" he softly sang. "I'm gonna count to ten and you'd better come and hit home or you'll be 'it' by default!" He grinned to himself, swung to the right with his laser rifle and blew up a car. BOOM! Then another-KABOOM! And another and another-KABOOM! KABOOM! KABOOM! Yeah, looks like he'd have to tear up the whole city before getting his hands on the 'other' Prime. The universe only had enough room for one. Just one Prime. Rodimus was certain Magnus felt the same. One Prime was more than enough for anyone to handle.

He transformed and hung a left on Cinnamon Street and just when he crossed the corner of Cinnamon and Ginger, energon bars shot up from the street on either side of him. Rodimus kicked into high gear as he sensed energon bars rising ahead and behind him. He leaped just as the energon cage completed itself. He landed gracefully and circled the area, looking for the elusive Senior Prime.

Optimus calmly emerged from the Macy's office building, holding his own weapon and a vibro-blade. "RODIMUS . . . NO DISAPPOINTMENT THIS TIME."

"What a nice thing to say." Roddi's own voice dripped with annoyance and sarcasm. "So now you're trying to trap me. Is it that you're out to kill me?"

Optimus placed the vibro-blade into subspace, "YOU GUESS, RODIMUS PRIME. YOU HAVE ALL ANSWERS."

"You can't beat me." Roddi almost grinned. "You slap me around like a puppy but-haha-I just keep coming back for more. You're not very good at this, Prime."

Prime held his rifle to the air. "YOU BORE WITH CONVERSATION."

Rodimus thought it over for tenth of a second then charged his opponent. He transformed to auto mode in mid-step and ran Prime off his feet. Optimus skidded along the road. His powerful form left deep scratches in Max's plated surface. Prime was on his feet the next second. The two locked arms, one pushed the other against this shop, swung about and smashed a store. With a yell Optimus lifted Rodimus overhead and slammed him through a window. Roddi locked his knees around the window's ledge and yanked Prime against the building wall. Optimus grunted with impact, but held Rodimus' hand tightly and flipped him out the window, splattering his form on the street. Rodimus managed to his feet and with a handspring, pounded Prime's chest with his legs. Optimus thundered on the pavement. He swept his powerful legs around Roddi and whacked him into the metal plated flooring. Rodimus didn't know which bent worse: the pavement, or his backside.

Rodimus rolled back over his shoulder and crouched for a spring but yelped when Prime shot the left side of his spoiler with optic lasers. Ignoring the pain, Rodimus ducked and tripped Prime. Moving as fast as possible, Roddi swept Optimus up and tossed him like a rag doll into a street light, then into the nearby gift shop.

Optimus crashed through three steel walls and for a moment all died quiet. Rodimus bent over and coughed, spitting up fluids. He grinned. Maybe it was over. When his audios picked out the sounds of a familiar engine rumble, he realized he could not have been more wrong. Optimus came smashing through the shop. Rodimus back-flipped out of the way and Optimus transformed to robot mode too soon. Rodimus shot back with a leap-kick. "Right in the kisser!" he declared with glee.

But Optimus merely turned his momentum into a handspring and leapt back for him. The two locked, pushing and shoving, their feet scraped into the metal flooring as though it were soft mud until Rodimus broke the grip. He nabbed Optimus round the waist and marred Prime's face into the roadway. Optimus immediately twisted around and tossed Rodimus, sending him sailing all the way down the street. Rodimus landed with a resounding thud next to the Bridgework Pass; a fancy Renaissance restaurant constructed of stonework. He smashed a hand into the window and yanked off a cornerstone.

Optimus did not see it coming. It slammed straight into his thorax, tossing him into a cross section of parked cars. A second boulder came flying his way and he countered it with a blast from his rifle. Another one rolled his way-WHAM, WHAM, WHAM thumping up and down the street. This was a stupid game. Prime merely kicked it.

Not one of his better ideas.

The rock was laden with explosives and it blew, jolting him into another department store, through it, and into the nearby garden shop. All the windows in the immediate area shattered and the Macy's building crumbled, thundering over the street and into the IBM office complex across the way.

"OOOPS!" Rodimus called out. He cackled like an old woman and transformed, revving his engines. The Second raced up the street like an asylum escapee and just as he was about to hit the Macy's ruins, he transformed smoothly and leapt, landing gracefully on the other side.

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IT WILL TAKE THEIR LIVES. THEY WILL BOTH DIE.

Rusti's eyes snapped open. The sheltered world about her was shadowed in quiet but in a distance, Rusti heard voices.

She moved her right arm and it hurt. She winced-that hurt. She rolled her right shoulder and that hurt. It hurt to breathe too. What kind of hell did she pass through?

THEY WILL BOTH DIE.

She glanced right then left to see if someone were standing over her but she saw no one.

Was it the Music? Usually It spoke to her only when she slept. Rusti smiled. That was it; she was still asleep! Silly girl. She tried to draw a deep breath, but oh, that was painful! She merely closed her eyes and her body started to shut down for another nap.

R-R-R-R-R-R-U-U-U-US-S-S-S-S-S-TI-I-I-I-I.

It was a very pretty voice. The girl opened her eyes again as distant booms thundered across the ceiling. "Is somebody there?" her little voice sounded mousy.

No answer. Maybe it was the pain killer they gave her. Rusti moved her left arm and found it heavily bandaged. Did she break it in the fall? Why did she fall, anyway?

A beautiful alien approached her from behind the curtains. She had large squared eyes and a hairless head crested with a white bone-like structure resembling a crown. Natural bony armor spiked from her shoulders and chest. Her long fingers touched the bed frame. Rusti liked her blue skin.

THEY WILL BOTH DIE. The alien spoke without moving her mouth.

Rusti looked away, tears burned her eyes. "I can't help them." she choked.

THE ONLY GOOD LEFT RESIDES IN YOU. IF YOU DO NOT HELP, THEY WILL SLAUGHTER ONE ANOTHER OR ULTRA MAGNUS WILL KILL THEM.

"I can't help them! I don't have that kind of power!" Rusti was angry at her helplessness. No! Sleep! Sleep! Ignore the dream and go to sleep! Her body started to shut back down. The drugs in her system would not allow her to stay awake any longer. The vision of the alien came to her bedside but Rusti was no longer able to move her head.

I CAN HELP YOU. BUT IT IS A DECISION YOU MUST MAKE.

Rusti only scarcely understood. She closed her eyes and imagined Optimus and Rodimus speeding down a roadway in a game of chicken. But she never heard or envisioned the crash.

---------------------------------------

Optimus punched Rodimus' mandible and the Second Prime slammed into the building. Prime ripped up a light pole and whacked the Second across the chest. Rodimus crumbled, his armor bent to the pole's shape. Optimus broke the light pole into a short, sharp weapon. "THIS ENDS."

Rodimus thrust with all his might, slamming his shoulder into Prime's middle and the two went flaying into the training field. They rolled and wrestled back and forth. Rodimus managed on top first and tried to squeeze his hands around Prime's frail neck. But Optimus bopped Roddi's audio sensors and threw him off. Optimus leapt to his feet, Rodimus still lay, holding his audios. Prime produced his rifle and BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM! Rodimus kept rolling to avoid 'new air vents'. At the next opportunity he sprang to his feet and charged. He transformed to auto mode in mid-run and would have rammed Prime had Optimus not leapt so easily over him. Prime landed softly and pointed to the light fixtures behind Rodimus. They started to wriggle and twist according to Optimus' silent command.

This time, however, Rodimus decided not to get caught and he sprang upward, swung around one pole and took a shot at Prime with his arm guns.

Rather than dodging fire, Optimus took it, advancing on 'the punk.' Rodimus yelled in frustration and scaled the wall.

"You're gettin' slow there, Prime!" he jeered.

Optimus quietly grunted and leapt straight to the top, surprising Rodimus. One chased the other along the bridge until Rodimus once again shifted to auto mode. Prime copied and the two raced from the Training grounds to the Bivouac. Seventy miles an hour, eighty, one hundred. One-twenty. One-thirty, one-fifty, two-twenty. Rodimus raced up one street, transformed for those narrow corners and returned to auto mode, surprised Optimus could keep up with him move for move.

The large Cybertronian Hotel loomed up from Chrysler Street but Rodimus' momentum was such that he had no way of stopping and turning. Optimus behind him transformed, backflipped and landed on his feet, sliding just inches shy of the building. Rodimus slammed his breaks and whapped his siding against the building, leaving a deep impact impression. Optimus grinned, unable to resist the next move. He jumped to and kicked Rodimus' aft, tossing the Prime in auto mode through the stone wall into the next courtyard and into the pool.

Rodimus swiftly transformed, leapt out like a spider and the two rolled head-over-heels along the lawn, crushing brush and breaking trees. Rodimus finally got the upper hand and tossed Prime off. He transformed as Optimus hit another extension of the hotel a little too hard. He remained dazed for a moment then seeing how Rodimus came at him, readied in a different position. When Roddi was close enough, Prime kicked him in the front section, sending the younger Prime on his backside, tires still rolling.

Optimus laughed. "WHO'S CLUMSY? NICE TRY. NO PICKLE."

Rodimus rebounded and armed himself with a vibro-blade. He swung wide and hard, but Optimus backed off just an inch, maybe less. Roddi swung the other direction and came back to meet one of Optimus' own energy weapons. They clanged and parried one another, slamming their blades into the ground, catching the grass on fire, blowing up stonework and melting walls. Rodimus had a hard time keeping his temper, but it finally got the best of him and he slashed and thrust and swept one direction then another and parried when Optimus went on the offensive. Prime himself finally had enough and deflected one strike then kicked Rodimus in the middle. Roddi rolled with it, came back and they hacked and slashed once again. Rodimus received a terrible gash in the left shoulder. A wound stretched along Prime's right thigh. Rodimus caught a tear in the side. Optimus bled from the left knee.

Then they stopped, catching their breath and stared at one another. Neither bothered to take notice how the other's optics were blood-red. Neither realized how dark their colors were, how their wounds leaked, how tired their bodies became.

"Had enough?" Rodimus huffed.

Optimus stared for a long moment then silently and slowly shook his head.

The next second, Rodimus found himself sinking into a pool of quickmetal and he struggled, splashing and fighting against rising temperatures. Optimus approached the edge of the pool that he created. "HAVE A PROBLEM, RODIMUS. CORRECTION: PROBLEMS TWICE. FIRST, YOU BECOME PART OF MAXIMUS. CONSIDERED PERSONAL CONTRIBUTION. SECOND: OVERCONFIDENT EXPECTATIONS CONTINUALLY MISINTERPRET MY OBJECTIVES." He started to walk away as Rodimus kept splashing about like a dog learning to swim.

"I'll get my hands on you, Prime! I'll free the city and cleanse the Matrix! They will worship me as their leader . . . as their priest!"

Optimus paused, but did not turn back. He resumed his retreat as Rodimus took a nasty gulp of liquid metal. Then he realized how the metal started to thicken about him. Optimus meant to bury him in the city itself. He finally quit splashing and waited for the metal to reach a certain thickness. Oh, he had to time this out ever so carefully! Too soon and he would not be able to escape, too late and he would not be able to transform for extra momentum-

-there! He transformed, using the larger truck size to give him leverage on the firmer edges of the pool and he hauled himself out just as the metal solidified.

Void and Desolate knew that would not keep the other Prime down for long, but now time was available. Soon the city upon which It festered and grew would be connected to the fleshling city north. Once that connection took place, It could infect the computers and seek the other cities the First Prime mentioned. The other cities were connected, but the First Prime had slipped by It and had disconnected Maximus from the links.

CLEAVER. NOT ENOUGH. And It waited for the Second Prime, the one not quite under its control, to arrive. It breathed in coolness and concentrated. All the elements were at Its every call. The city succumbed to Its desire. And It desired desolation. Void touched the building behind. Void sought the greatness around itself. Here grew things and souls. Here, feeding ground. And in this biped figure resided strength and power unlike any else. It would use this biped. It drank his essence, wrapped Its fine-pointed legs about his consciousness and grew inebriated with his misery.

There was no power that could end Void. It was alive. Now the buildings, soft and flexible, bowed to It, succumbing to Its power. Those too would be devoured. In time. In time.

"THERE YOU ARE!" The Second Prime came from the other end of the building.

Optimus merely grinned and he slammed his fist against the wall. Before Rodimus could react, the wall waved like water and snapped at the corner where he stood, slamming his whole form in one shot. Rodimus kissed the ground, transformed and aimed to ram down his opponent.

Optimus leapt, somersaulted in the air and held his palm out toward Rodimus. A blast shot from Prime's hand, slammed Rodimus into the wall, through the building and out the other end. Optimus shook his head. Pathetic!

He didn't see the car falling from the sky. It hit straight down and Prime landed on his face. Its tires shifted into iron clamps and Prime struggled in its grip as Rodimus came through the very hole he crashed into a moment ago.

"What's that? Having problems now, Optimus? What a pity! That's an old, old trick! Maybe you're not as up-to-date as you believe yourself to be! Well, that's all right. We can fix that." Rodimus uprooted a street sign and bent one side so that it resembled a golf club. He positioned himself so that he hit Optimus on the left side and would or might land in the fountain about a quarter of a mile away. He wiggled his aft then calculated the amount of strength needed for the strike.

Optimus made no move to escape and with a great THWAK, he and automobile went flying through the air. Rodimus pretended to shield his optics from a sunless sky. Seeing nothing, he shouldered the severely-bent makeshift golf club and paced down the walkway. He whistled and tap danced, straightening out the street sign and used it as a dancing cane.

Something nasty roared over the horizon and a SWAK, SCRAPE, SWAK charged toward the Second Prime. Rodimus almost didn't turn in time to see it. The car, which he had twisted into a weapon, was twisted again into some sort of freak six-legged creature complete with metal teeth and acidic saliva. It ran for him on razor-sharp legs and a tail swept upward in a stinger. Rodimus ran faster and faster until he leapt over a slope, transformed and sped to a hundred and twenty miles an hour. The mutated car kept pace, just barely an eighth of a mile from him.

The Fort Max central library loomed ahead and Rodimus realized he was going to have to do a little demolishing. He attained additional speed and just when he came five precious feet from slamming into the building, he transformed and ran up the building wall. He pushed away, flew in a somersault and landed behind the mutated vehicle. It started to copy him when Rodimus blew it away. He backflipped three then four times and stood in a ready-to-fight position, staring at the library wall as one would an easily defeated foe. Rodimus grinned proudly.

The wall before him swirled, its dark metal churned then pushed out into the shape of Optimus Prime's face.

"WELL EXECUTED, DIMINUTIVE PET. BUT WORTH NOT THE TIME TO WRITE." The voice boomed in a garbled, mechanical mixture of Optimus' real voice and something sinister and heinous.

"You're proving yourself a coward, Optimus!" Rodimus shouted. "Come out and face me think you better! Come! Come take a piece! Come face one Prime against another!"

"I GOD HERE. NO CHANCE FOR YOUR LIFE. I PLAY NO GAMES."

It infuriated the Second Prime and he turned from the building, gripping his head. He stomped about as though tortured or wounded then threw his head up and let out a terrible scream. He snapped out his hand toward the building and a shock of power shot into the structure. At first nothing happened then the building blew out from the sides like an animal exploding from within. Bits of paper and metal, fragments and shards of plastic and computers blew in each direction, rising with the air current and settling like so much confetti.

But the backside of the library remained intact.

Someone tapped him on the left shoulder and Rodimus cursed himself. He turned and Optimus landed a powerful one right on the mandible. Rodimus smashed into the library wall but rather than falling on his face again, the Second Prime caught himself on his hands, sprang to his feet like an acrobat and kicked Prime in the face. Optimus rebounded all too easily and transformed, charging for Rodimus like a rabid bull on wheels. Rodimus almost didn't see him coming and twisted down, kissing the ground. He felt every bit of Prime's weight on his backside and waited until the trailer itself mowed him over. He snapped to his feet, prepared for another run-down when Optimus, moving at an impossible speed for his size, shot straight out of transformation and slammed both feet directly into Rodimus' chest.

The impact honestly should have killed him. It would have killed Galvatron. Rodimus merely fell on his back, grinning all the while. Prime fell heavily, straddling over Roddi's form. He secured his hands around his opponent's neck, thumbs right under the chin. Prime pressed his thumbs upward and Rodimus felt muscle cables stretch.

"Is this how you killed Hosehead?" his own voice came distorted, cold like the thing twisting inside his body.

"ALL NUISANCES REMOVED. NONE STANDS BETWEEN THE GOAL AND THE VOID. POWER GENERATOR BELONGS TO THE VOID."

"Ah!" Rodimus instantly pieced together the incident; Optimus was going to take one of three major power generators in the city and Hosehead was assigned to it. Obviously, the Headmaster was trying to keep Optimus from dismantling it. Yup, the Headmaster kept him from doing it alright; it just cost him his own life, that's all. "Well, I'll not go so easily!" Rodimus bopped Prime's audios with his hands, but to no affect. Something snapped inside his neck. Rodimus ignored it and rerouted his systems. He tried punching the Senior Prime in the face. No results.

Something else snapped. Rodimus was swiftly running out of options and soon his air and fluid lines would be compromised.

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THEY WILL KILL EACH OTHER.

The music invaded her mind again. But Rusti was not going to wake up. She needed rest. "Optimus and Roddi never let me be around when they argue. Optimus always sends me outside to play with the Dinobots, pick flowers, or draw pictures for him. I know they have terrible arguments."

The music shifted and became a soft glowing orb that zipped from one end of the station to the other. Rusti realized they were inside the bunker, north of the city. But she did not know how she got there or who found her and brought her in. The orb returned to her little resting place and the girl envisioned her body in black and blue, bandaged in several places either to protect opened wounds or cracked bones; her ribs being a few of them. The orb insisted she get up and look around.

But Rusti just lay there, eyes closed. Her mind teetered on the edge of consciousness and dreams. She allowed it to drift wherever it chose, hoping to dream of fluffy, peach-colored clouds floating amid a soft sunset over a valley hemmed in by hills and flowers near a beautiful lake.

Instead, the squared blue optics belonging to Ultra Magnus came into view. His form rested in a chair while several Autobots and Humans gathered about him, softly talking among themselves before talking to him. Rusti could not hear what they were saying, not clearly, anyway.

Then Magnus spoke in soft, concise tones: "no one wants to do what must be done. Least of all, me. But something must be done to stop them."

Rusti remembered how Magnus was warned he might have to assassinate the two Autobot leaders. He was right, something needed to be done. But killing them was not an option Magnus should take, however inevitable it seemed.

"ME, GRIMLOCK TAKE CARE OF OPTEEMUS PRIME. ME GRIMLOCK STOMP HIM COLD."

"NO!" It was Springer's firm voice that interrupted the Dinobot. "Killing them would only jeopardize our own future. Magnus, we need to come up with a better plan!"

"I'm open to suggestions, Springer." Magnus answered quietly. "If you have another option, let's hear it."

Springer looked a bit doubtful, but said his peace, anyway. "We could knock them unconscious and hold them-"

"Hold them in what, Springer?" Daniel/Arcee snapped at him with a sharp voice. "Did you see what they've done to the city? Do you honestly believe anything we construct will hold either of them?" Daniel/Arcee gazed hard at Magnus, "Ultra Magnus, let me-I mean, 'us' do the assassination. Arcee's body is smaller and lighter than most others here; we can slip into places-"

"Thank you, Daniel, but no. I am not willing to put either you or Arcee at risk here. If anyone would be able to detect your presence, it would be Optimus Prime. You can't sneak up on him."

Arcee's arms folded in obstinance. "We are a Headmaster, Magnus. Our life frequencies are different."

"The answer is still 'no."

"Magnus!" Daniel's stubborn streak surfaced, "we are more than capable of handling the situation! All we need is a good weapon-"

"The answer is NO, Daniel." Magnus snarled.

"Dammit, Magnus, when are you going to realize that between the two of us, we're far more capable of doing things other than playing babysitter to diplomats! Arcee is a great fighting machine and more agile than most every . . . one . . ."

Daniel's argument faded when the Major-general forced himself to his feet and stood tall and threatening, towering over Arcee by a good ten, maybe fifteen feet. His flaring optics bore down on the femme, or more to the point, the Human inside the femme. "I am not going to argue with you about this, DANIEL. Arcee's life is in question here, whether or not YOU are in control. The answer remains NO. So, DROP IT."

Springer nodded, "Magnus is right. Optimus is far too aware of what takes place around the city." Springer ignored the acid gaze Daniel/Arcee stabbed his way and turned back to Magnus. "Mags, let me give it a try. I can knock them out with a concussion blast. If it doesn't work . . ." here the Triple Changer glanced at the Dinobot, "You can send Grimlock to take a shot."

Magnus sighed. The idea of sending anyone appalled him. Look at what Optimus did to him-and that was just to teach him a lesson in 'decorum'! However, something needed to be done. Something had to work. If nothing else, they had to try. "Alright, Springer. But don't get caught in a cross-fire. If it doesn't work, pull out immediately. We'll come up with something else."

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Rodimus managed to call up enough strength to fling Prime off him. He transformed and raced away. He needed new tactics. Unfortunately, Prime was not finished with him. Optimus chased and the two zipped out of the Bivouac into the R & D complex. Rodimus led Prime in and out of Research and Development all too quickly, steering back toward Central and EDC. He turned south on Polaris Avenue and zoomed for Ascension Grade. But Optimus, hot on his aft, jumped speeds and transformed to robot mode, landing squarely on Rodimus' trailer. Using their momentum, Prime swung all his body weight right just as Roddi climbed up the grade. Optimus' weight pulled the two of them to the grade's rail, over the ramp and they fell quarter of a mile to ground level. Rodimus transformed to robot mode as they fell and with a growl, punched Optimus then kicked him. Roddi landed like a cat, Optimus, more like a spider and the two assailed one another like a pair of rams. Rodimus jabbed Prime in the middle, then flew away when Optimus chopped him with the side of his hand.

Rodimus called his rifle from subspace, no longer willing to use his arm weapons. He peppered the area with photon blasts, damaging a support beam to the grade, tearing up Polaris Avenue and blowing up two Human vehicles.

By the time he was through 'redecorating' that part of the city, he realized Optimus was nowhere in sight. Rodimus cursed profusely, his face twisted into an ugly expression. This game needed to come to a conclusion.

Optimus seized him from behind and Rodimus tried to jam the butt of his rifle into Prime's face. But he succeeded only when he turned the rifle around and shot Optimus in the lower left leg. Optimus screamed and grabbed a firm hold on the points of Rodimus' spoiler then with a great shove to Roddi's backside, Optimus broke off the points and tossed them aside.

Rodimus cried out and stumbled forward but rolled back around to face his attacker. Optimus threw himself onto his opponent and the two rolled for control over the other, wrestling, kicking and punching, all the while, each struggled for the only weapon between them. Optimus finally managed to pin Rodimus down and pulled back his right fist, readying to pummel face. Rodimus knew he was no match at this moment and levered one foot up and managed to throw Prime off him, though it took everything he had. The Second transformed to auto mode and shot away, madly racing this way and that just to find a little refuge and nurse a few injuries and invent other ways to eliminate the other infected Prime.

Optimus let him go for now. His leg hurt from Roddi's gunshot and a bit of a rest would be good. He lifted his dark red eyes toward the sunless sky and tuned into the world for a moment. All around his immediate area, he sensed people, Autobot or Human, grieve over the destruction and the dismal darkness that enveloped the planet.

It was all the same, light or dark, as far as he was concerned. The darkness was comfortable and Optimus planned to keep it this way for a very long time.

Wait! What was that?

Something of Light now touched the streets.

Another Toy arrived to deter Void's attention from Rodimus.

Springer slipped to the outside world and transformed to his helicopter mode. The city lay like a dead thing left to waste away. Nothing of the familiar sounds echoed off his sonar. Buildings were either smashed or left completely alone. Streets lay ripped like wounds left unattended. Vehicles squatted along the ground like mashed aluminum cans.

No sign of either Prime. The world held quiet as a spider's web in waiting.

Springer knew better than to land, but there seemed no other way to find either Prime. It could be that the noise he made in the air forewarned them of his approach. He needed to attack swift and sure and leave, but . . . maybe Magnus was right after all. He transformed and grabbed hold of a support beam and slid his way to a quieter landing. This was near the R & D complex, the one place not yet fully trashed by the two Primes. If their goal was to completely dismantle Fort Max, they were doing a great job of it. It amazed the Autobot wrecker how much damage two people could do. But then, he digressed, they weren't ordinary people in any sense of the word.

Now to business. If he were Optimus or Rodimus Prime, pending on eliminating the other, where would he go? The building before him flashed in brilliance and a scene from the past flickered before his optics. But now accustomed to the strange phenomena, Springer paid it no mind. There was a mission to complete.

Where were the two Primes? Maybe his calculations were incorrect. Maybe the information was wrong. Or maybe both were bored and Optimus and Roddi had departed for another part of the city: Topside or something.

A finger sternly and firmly tapped the wrecker's shoulder and Springer about swallowed his own laser core. He flinched and stepped back, nearly tripping over a bit of refuse. Optimus towered over him like a dark gargoyle. And in the sunless day, all the wrecker could see were the bare outlines of the Senior Prime and his optics, now gone cold red.

"WHAT STANDS HERE?" Optimus' voice was clearly twisted with an alien sound. It vibrated and touched Springer's audio receptors like acid. "I BELIEVE YOUR NAME SPRINGER." Optimus began to circle him like a predator examining its prey. "LITTLE THINGS PRECIOUS."

Springer finally found his vocalizer, "Optimus, I-I've come to put a stop to the fighting."

"ELIMINATION EXERCISES NOT THE SAME. RETREAT OR FACE DISMANTLEMENT."

"You're destroying the city. You must stop-"

"INFERIORITY HAS NO PLACE OF AUTHORITY.

Springer had a hard time suppressing a shudder. The voice snapped and even the wrecker could tell every word was underlaid with a curse toward him. But he was considered courageous, even by Prime's high standards. Springer would not back down. "If you do not end this, you will force the rest of us to put an end to it." Prime's sizable hand clamped hard about Springer's neck and the Triple Changer found himself slammed into the nearby building. Optimus' hand slowly closed off fuel and air to his CPU.

"SUBCREATURE. INTIMIDATION UNIMPORTANT. YOUR HEAD USED FOR PLEASURE. YOUR BODY USED FOR SUSTENANCE. YOUR SOUL A PLAYGROUND FOR LUST. DARK DREAMS TAINT YOUR HAPPINESS. THE VOID ENVELOPS AND YOU CRY FOR DEATH. DEATH DENIED, SUBCREATURE. ONLY VOID AND PAIN AND SORROW.'

'YOU LEARN TO CRY.'

A white flash seared Springer's mind and he envisioned a group of Quintessons surrounding him, while he lay strapped to a table. A sharp, hot tool pierced his body and sank down, down, down. The Wrecker twitched with memory -oh Primus, it hurt! Another Quintesson spoke as a volt of electricity jabbed his innards, scorching him inside, boiling fluids and vaporizing components. Springer's body twitched with agony. He wanted to cry, but could not. Another Quintesson ripped open Springer's back panels and tore apart precious shield plates. It stabbed into his laser core and connected him to a machine which jolted him with hot acid. Springer opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came. His mind reeled with memories of an event he did not live through himself. They jammed needle-sharp tools into the back of his head and Springer felt each one of them, felt fluids and blood drip off the ends of the protruding needles and his body jerked.

Optimus dropped the Autobot wrecker and Springer remained where he lay, his body now suffering with spastic episodes of emotional and mental shock.

Rodimus staggered through the inner courtyard between Medical and the R & D complex. He knew he just barely escaped with his life when he and Prime heard Springer approach. Optimus abandoned him for a bit of fresh fun. He did not know how long that would last, but he hoped it would be long enough for him to prepare a trap.

Distantly the Second Prime heard something interlock with Fort Max. But did he actually hear it, or did he feel it? Or did it matter?

Rodimus decided it did not matter. He transformed and raced toward Central, hoping he could get there before Optimus decided to finish playing with his new-found play-thing.

The damaged streets stretched before him like opened wounds, seeping with fluids from the city. Fort Max was seriously injured. Roddi did not concern himself with whether it was life threatening or not. He rolled off Factor Street and into Central Plaza, a courtyard lying west of Central Command. In the center, as Rodimus suspected, lay Optimus' trailer. Roller was nowhere to be seen but his absence did not enter Roddi's mind as Prime examined the connections between the opened trailer and Maximus. Plates and other pieces of metal flooring were removed to make room for the trailer, now planted in the heart of the city. Optimus was planning something big and whatever it was, Rodimus was sure he'd not like it.

He was right not to trust to it. For the trailer had linked securely to Max's own systems and from there it sent a signal to a satellite high above. The satellite, now infected with the Virus itself, transmitted the signal and sent it to Fort Sagittarius in England.

There, at the Central Command center in Sagittarius, Autobots and Humans crossed the courtyard at the change of guard. But when the face of Optimus Prime pressed out from the building's structure, everyone in the area, as far away as half a mile, froze from what they were doing, whether it was walking, driving or talking. They stared at the impressionable and inexpressive face of Optimus Prime.

"AUTOBOTS, THIS YOUR GOD. PREPARE FOR DEATH." Again it was Optimus' voice but distorted and drowned by the Viral influence. Fear swept over the city and people dropped their immediate assignments and searched for security and assurance.

But that was as far as the threat advanced. In Fort Maximus, Rodimus leapt upon the trailer's platform and tore into it; ripping cross-circuitry, communication uplinks and feeding lines. He added a nice little bomb to the deck itself then whisked away before the deck blew.

Optimus, who had long since finished his business with Springer, crumbled with shock. He knew exactly what happened and who was responsible.

One attack deserves another.

Prime transformed to auto mode, but found it painful to call the trailer in through subspace. It bled and rattled from damage. Nevertheless, Optimus pressed forward and shot down Main Street, aiming straight for the heart of Central Command. Whatever dared to remain in his path, be it living thing or not, was flattened without a second thought.

Not far from there, Rodimus laughed, delighted they would fight once more. He transformed and shot northward, aiming to ram Optimus Prime. He knew Motormaster lost to a game of chicken decades ago. That didn't mean diddle to him. He was a Prime, Motor 'mouth' was not. In the dark of night, under the bloody moon, the two came within sight range.

"You can't do to me what you did to Motormaster." Rodimus dared.

"NO INTENT CRASHING," Prime answered. "OBJECTIVE: ANNIHILATION."

Rodimus Prime let out a battle cry and they came sixty yards of crashing.

Forty.

Twenty.

Ten.

They slammed into one another with such a sound that what glass remained intact shattered and both Primes transformed on the spot. But it was Rodimus who gained momentum first. He scampered for Optimus, grabbed his hand and swung him into the nearby building. He rushed after with a lightsword but did not get close enough. Optimus' foot slammed into his face and Rodimus fell back, marring the ground with his impact. Optimus leapt after, but Rodimus rolled out of the way. Optimus crashed, ripping metal and underside material into fragments. Rodimus jumped at the opportunity and came slashing down with the sword. Rather than running, Optimus faced his opponent and kicked Rodimus on the underside so that he 'ate' metal flooring. Optimus rolled to his knees, projected the palm of his hand toward Rodimus and shot an energy burst his way. Roddi saw it coming and flipped feet over hands out of range. The burst fragmented a nearby statue and bits of metal rained everywhere.

Optimus, however, did not take notice how Rodimus had disappeared and regretted not keeping closer track. Rodimus landed in front of him and slashed his chest with the blade. Optimus fell back with impact but rebounded with a spring and stood at guarded attention. Rodimus advanced with the blade, encouraged that he was finally gaining the advantage. "I will drink your fluids like fine iridium."

Optimus aimed a kick, but miscalculated and Rodimus slashed him along the left hip. The cut ran deep and Prime crumbled in pain as blood colored the surface of his body. He sprang back up, however, ready to attack from another angle, but his reaction time was slower because of the damage done to the Trailer. Rodimus kicked him squarely in the chest again, causing more damage than what was there before. Optimus stumbled back. He seemed surprised that Rodimus was finally attaining the upper hand in their conflict.

It mattered not. Whatever Rodimus did to him, the objective was the same; the intent to destroy. He foolishly, thoughtlessly, charged for Rodimus who finally impaled the sword through Prime's right shoulder.

For a single fleeting second, Optimus realized what was going on. His optics shed their red haze and his mind whirled with shock. What was happening to them? But the moment passed as Optimus faded into the darkness of a blackout.

Finally victorious, Rodimus dragged Prime along the ground, making sure the course he took was over the worst littered areas so that Optimus' hide would be well scratched and dented.

Where would he place Optimus to kill him outright? Where would be the best of places? Maybe near or on Central Command itself.

No, too obvious. Try again, No-Brain.

Ah-ha! The Museum of Alien History and Technology! It was one of Optimus' favorite places in town-he contributed much of his own stuff to it. Rodimus dragged the Senior Prime's unconscious form through Central Command back to the Bivouac and securely chained him while Prime could not fight.

Little by little Optimus came to and Rodimus watched, utterly pleased with himself, as Prime struggled against his bonds. Not only had he bagged the 'great and mighty' Optimus Prime, but now he thought it brilliantly ironic that Prime would die like this, virtually crucified on one of his own monuments. Roddi's ravenous anticipation suddenly fell into disappointment when Prime ceased his struggling. His optics darkened and his head bowed as though he had lost consciousness. Damn . . . Rodimus was pissed. Seems the old mech just couldn't take the punishment any more. Roddi stomped toward the Autobot leader, intent on 'bringing Op around' by whatever means necessary. He wasn't about to let Prime off that' easily. In that instant Optimus' head shot up, his optics blazing near-white with Matrix power. Rodimus slammed to a halt as though he had struck an unseen wall. Fear surged through him, but only for a moment. A hideous smile spread over Rodimus' face and his optics narrowed. "That's more like it!" he growled, drawing his vibro-blade from subspace. But what Roddi saw next nearly stopped his lasercore.

Rodimus stood in total disbelief as he watched the structure behind Optimus tremble, slowly shifting and reforming itself, allowing Prime to break free in the process. His head bowed, he dropped to one knee, resting his hands on the ground. Shards of heavy glass fell like rain, shattering on the ground around him. All the while the thing behind him shifted and writhed, slowly taking the form of a hundred foot mutated version of the Virus itself. It lurched to one side, then the other, fragmenting the concrete and metallic base that restrained it. One by one it extricated it's four legs from the ground. The ear splitting sound of scraping and twisting metal forced Rodimus to cover his audios in pain. He looked up again to see the creature take two steps, it's pointed legs piercing the earth like spikes under it's weight. There it stood squarely over Optimus, who did not so much as flinch. It crouched as though about to pounce and screamed.

Not even the Madness could shield Rodimus from the absolute terror that impaled him like a shaft of ice.

The building let out an insentient shriek and picked Rodimus up then slammed him down, leaving a deep impression in the city flooring. Rodimus groaned, now feeling pain, and plenty of it.

Optimus stood by and folded his arms, rather proud of himself. It seemed the city fell to a greater darkness, as though an unholy black flame absorbed whatever light remained. Neither Prime needed light to see by, however. They felt and heard everything around them, sensing buildings and debris, wreckage left by their conflict and felt the air choke with plasma fires and smoldering ruins. For Optimus, it was like breathing in evil and it felt soothing despite the fact that it disintegrated him from the inside.

Rodimus managed to pull his senses together and he struggled out of the pit his body made. His optic sensors were off-line. But the darkness swallowed all light and sight was impossible, anyway.

Thlomp!

Rodimus turned toward the sound and the depiction in his mind came as accurately as though he had visual contact. It took another step, leaving smoldering prints in its wake.

The city buildings bled at their junctions, corners and damaged areas. The walls around Fort Max wavered and all the faces lining outside started to murmur and chant foul things as their metal-carved optical sensors shed tears.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 11

The Music came back to Rusti in her dreams. But this time, as it played, the walls bled. She sat up and listened more intently. In her dream, she felt it necessary to leave. Now. Deep inside, she knew she did not have the power to stop the fighting. But maybe the Music could and maybe it just needed to know where to go.

Yes! That must be it! The Music just needed to know where to go and it would do the necessary work!

Rusti decided to chance it. She needed her robe and slippers because it would be cold out there tonight. She searched the closet and found the needed items. Oh, wait, what was that attached to her? Some kind of line. Yes. The line will have to go.

"Go away." her voice came as a soft whisper and the IV slipped out her arm on its own. The alarm did not sound, the monitors did not skip a beat. The Music would handle the details.

Rusti donned her leather-bottomed slippers and peaked out her room. The whole place lay in lightless silence. It would seem the terrible blackness above now affected the lower levels of the fortress city. Max, too, was in terrible pain, but there was nothing she could do about that. The Music wanted outside.

She padded her way past the room where Ultra Magnus slowly recuperated. Neither he nor the other Autobots noticed her walking by, nor did she see the lamplight from that room by which Grimlock prepared to meet Optimus Prime.

This way, Rusti thought. It was necessary to go through the side entrance because the back and front entrances were both watched. Yes, there was no need for conflict. Besides, the Autobot guarding the northern end was not well.

Rusti paid the Autobot no mind; she did not even notice how its upper half had been devoured by the wall it stood against. She did not see it bleed. The doors opened automatically for her. Maybe there was enough consciousness left in the city that it knew she was leaving the lower level.

Well, no, Rusti thought dreamily again, something else kindly opened the doors for her. Things like that happen in dreams. She exited to the outside world and found it cast in grey light. The sun, forbidden to shine upon the world by the power of the Matrix, struggled around the block, creating a creepy aura effect in the sky. The city stood in ghostly quiet but now and again Rusti heard things fall from precarious positions. Roadways that were once paved with care lay torn or distorted by Optimus Prime's underestimated power.

THIS WAY. The music promised her a yellow brick road. This way to a place it needed to go. This way to . . .

This way to . . .

This way to the Dance.

Rusti's form froze. Dance? That was a filthy word, now, like 'game'. Optimus despised that word. It reminded him of evil things from his past. The connotation of 'game' was not to have fun, but to see people tortured to death.

But that was about seven million years and two Decepticon lords ago. Megatron, at least, played no games.

THIS WAY. THIS WAY. Rusti followed wherever the Music led her. A force, gentle but firm, prodded her along. The girl could not tell if she were the one in charge or if she allowed something else to lead her. No matter. Dreams did those kinds of things. But where was the Voice? Where was the Faceless Darkness? Surely It knew she was here.

She made her way around the dimly-lit city, careful as not to reopen any wounds currently healing. But her feet hurt. It was a good thing she had slippers on because . . . oops, there it goes. One wound split back open. That hurt and she winced. But she had to get to the bridge. It might be a bit safer there.

Faces pressed up from the floor as she walked along. One of them made a nasty expression toward her, but she knew as long as the Music stayed with her, it could not harm her. Rusti found the bridge crossing Autobot River between Central Command and the Training Grounds. How she got here in a few minutes was . . . well, magic, really. Dreams do things like that.

She cast her eyes about her surroundings, finding some buildings damaged, others slowly melting. "This needs to be reversed." she said out loud.

YES, IT DOES, the Music agreed. BUT TIME IS SHORT.

That was when the building slammed Rodimus into the ground. It took a step: THLOM. It took another step and its weight sent cracks into the city flooring. Poor Max! Worse yet, there stood Optimus. His coloring faded to dark grey and unholy white. His optics shone nearly colorless in the greyness of daylight. His body was battered and bleeding. But he felt nothing. His consciousness was completely under Viral control. He wanted to rage, but the Virus raged for him.

"Ssssshhhhhhhh." Rusti wanted the virus to be still long enough to realize it needed to rest. Yes, the Virus was very tired indeed. Time to rest for a while.

Shock struck Optimus Prime cold. He heard that voice, that tiny little voice. He startled and glanced right-oh great Primus! The girl was there! But . . . but she was supposed to be dead! She was dropped and being so frail, as all fleshlings are, she should have died-oh, wait! Yes, that's right! That one was a bit special, wasn't she? She was able to see the psychological manifestation. Ooooh, clever girl!

The Building-Virus stopped in its tracks and started to recede into its former shape. Rodimus managed to pull himself up, his body drenched in his own fluids. Then he too, turned to see what the hell Prime was staring at.

Ah! The girl!

Rusti made no move. The Music was here to accomplish something and it needed a witness. Had someone else been there, however, they would have seen how the girl's eyes shaded to fine fluorescent blue, glowing brightly under the possession of a powerful alien entity.

"YOU WILL BOTH DIE." Rusti heard herself whisper it. But the two Autobot leaders heard it loud and clear. "I WOULD GRIEVE. YOUR PEOPLE WOULD DIE. THERE WOULD BE NO MORE AND PRIMUS WOULD BE GUILTY OF MURDER. YOU MUST NOT CONTINUE THIS ACTION. SLEEP. SLEEP. SLEEP."

They stared at the girl. A gentle breeze brushed against her robe and gown and fluffed her red hair. Rusti had no idea her body temperature had dropped. She did not know her feet were bleeding badly. But she watched as Rodimus remained sitting and slowly stared at the ground. A shadow of grief fell over his face and shoulders. He leaned against the virus-now-turned building.

The Music touched the air, sparking a bit of light like little fireflies. Dimly, Rusti wished she could touch one of them. She started to cry because she knew she'd never be able to touch them. That was the way of things.

Optimus sank to his knees, staring at the girl. Void longed for her. It knew she had something It greatly desired. But Void found Itself tired from all Its work. She called it Faceless Darkness. Silly girl. It knew its name. Void . . . Void.

And now Void would rest for a while. Let the dark and the cold take it. Let the darker corners of the Matrix be its resting place. Optimus Prime would wait for him a while longer. The demise of Rodimus Prime could also wait.

There would be a tomorrow. And the city would rise and Void would have more to conquer. Greater fun at a later time.

At a later time.

Shhhhhhhh.

Optimus sat on his knees, staring. A little color returned to him. The blue in his optics faded in, but came more as blue-grey. It was more Optimus Prime than Void, now.

Primus, help, he mouthed it, but no words came from his vocalizer. Darkness started to lift. He could see a ruined city smoldering about him. Optimus thought his heart bled. "Primus, help." Moisture fell from his optics-something that's never happened before. The moisture fell over his faceplate and dropped to his chest, only to recede into the sword-wound given him by Rodimus. Oh, but was that not ages ago?

The darkness covering the world started to lift. The sun pushed and pressed its way through the dark barrier. It revealed bleeding metal and a decimated troop of National Guard around Fort Max. But it gave people hope. Another day was coming. The nightmare was over. For all things must end; even the bad.

Rusti started to come to, now realizing she was walking in no dreamscape. Pain shot down her body and she sank to the ground, her slippers soaked with blood. Her mind closed down in shock. What the hell was she doing out here?

Something about Music . . . but it wasn't music as in song, but unfathomable power. She brought her hands to her lap, not seeing that Optimus crawled away in one direction and Rodimus another. Her eyes batted against the rising light, chasing shadows and revealing a world touched by evil.

Rusti was suddenly aware that something horrible had taken Optimus Prime. It took him and twisted him, forcing him to use a power he had never dared to reveal. He was filled with an emptiness and guilt shared only by one who could understand the extent of vast responsibility.

People emerged from their hiding places. They all shielded their eyes and optics from the bright sunlight. They welcomed the light and warmth with hope, but upon seeing the city in such plight, their enthusiasms sank. It would take months to repair the damage, if it can be repaired at all. What of the melted buildings? The walls surrounding the city? What about the faces in building walls or those who were eaten by them?

Captain Fairborn pushed her way from a crowd of gawking onlookers and searched for the little girl who managed to disappear. She kept trying to rationalize how Rusti managed to sneak past the two Autobot guards standing at her door and then the two down the hallway and then the three at each of the entrances. "Rusti!" she called out. Fairborn half expected Daniel/Arcee to do the same, but Daniel was more concerned about his family in Central City. Maybe Arcee was worried about Rusti, but she had little choice: Daniel was the head, literally and figuratively.

"Rusti!" The captain ran six blocks to Central Command. If she were Rusti, who loved the two Primes more than probably anyone else in the city, this was where she would go. But all Fairborn found was the smashed fountain, the shattered front windows and the roadways and flooring torn up by the two Autobot leaders. What a horrific mess! Fairborn doubted if a Decepticon attack could have made a more terrible scene! Roads had their courses changed and buildings slumped, partly melted. Other areas looked as though they had been uprooted and turned completely upside down.

They had been. One building, not far south, was completely uprooted and lay upside down. Cars and trucks were burned to a crisp. A pool of liquid metal lay near the ambassadorial suite there in Central.

And not far from there spanned the bridge leading from Central to the Training Ground. The bridge was twisted a bit so that it rose and fell . . . there!

Marissa ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She came to Rusti and checked the girl's pulse then raised the girl's head to look into her eyes. Rust's grey eyes fluttered open. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Optimus hurts."

Marissa softly cursed and swept the girl off the metal flooring, out of a small pool of blood. There was no need for words. Rusti needed immediate care.

---------------------------------------

DANCE 12

Rusti supposed every Autobot had their own opinion about Optimus Prime. Some appreciated his administration while others were simply accustomed to it. Some thought of him as a tireless soldier, always prepared for war; others suffered from hero worship. Some Autobots (and many Paratrons) viewed him as reclusive and unsociable. But there were those who were downright hostile, who thought him as a self-righteous prig with little love or respect for the Autobots under his command. Those same Autobots felt he viewed them as naught but gun fodder for that day when Autobots and Decepticons would once again engage in the age-old war AND they blamed Optimus for perpetuating the war.

But Rusti knew Optimus viewed himself as their servant. He was their problem-solver. He took care of their needs and tried to lead them toward a better future. But it would seem all that has crumbled to dust. Rusti wondered if Optimus was up on Central right now, cleaning his plants or maybe in his office, sorting through digipads. She felt nothing from him. It was possible he was numb from shock. She felt nothing from Rodimus but seething rage toward himself. The proverbial 'smoke' had cleared but all things touched by evil are never the same.

This was the case in point. Rusti lifted her eyes from sleep and stared at a wall where a TV quietly chattered on. Some Tom and Jerry cartoon played. Rusti assumed the doctor told nurses no news. A shadowy figure stepped in and Rusti met a nurses' smile.

"Good afternoon, Young Lady! Nice to see you awake. How do you feel?"

Rusti did not feel like smiling. Her lips parted and her cheeks hurt. "Optimus." It was all she cared about.

"I'm not permitted to tell you anything. Only Doctor Cynyr can authorize that. Are you hungry? Some Jell-O, maybe?"

Rusti looked away as she choked. Emptiness touched her. She nodded anyway as tears tumbled down her cheeks. Someone crushed someone else's soul and she felt that and took it in and tried to protect it. But the soul shied away.

Footsteps entered her ears and the girl realized she had slept again. The nurse set two little cups of Jell-O in front of her: orange and lime. "Here you go." The nurse did not seem quite so happy this time around. It was true; depression is contagious.

"Thank you." Rusti whispered. She sniffed and picked up the spoon with a bandaged hand.

"Would you like me to change the channel for you?" The nurse tried to make amends for her attitude. But Rusti merely shook her head.

"No, thank you. I don't want anything else. I don't want to hear the news or watch a dumb sitcom." The nurse nodded, forced a smile then left.

Rusti slept most of the day waking only to eat just a little something or take a restroom break. She heard commotions now and again down the hall and gathered that several wounded people lay in the same ward and from listening to nurses and other staff talk on, there were many Autobot casualties with about twenty-nine dead and sixteen unaccounted for.

Cynyr followed Rusti's treatment with laser surgery, healing four broken ribs and three bones in her feet. She had skin abrasions and bruises up and down her back and chest where she fell against water and later received shock resuscitation. While her bones were healed, they remained soft and would be for a few weeks. At least she was mobile. Cynyr kept her in the ward for a couple more days to make sure she was able to walk on her own.

It was about the second day that a pretty lady and her son came to pay Rusti a visit. Rusti did not recognize the lady at all but thought she had seen the boy before. He was very mannerly and kindly brought a bouquet of flowers which he set in the window. He seemed rather sad and at a loss for words.

"Hi." he tried.

She smiled, though her bruised cheeks hurt to do so. "Hi. Thank you."

He pocketed his hands and glanced at his feet. "I suppose you don't know who I am." She honestly didn't think she did. But from his demeanor, it seemed she was supposed to. He sent her a grim smile. "I'm Cody Greydon. We go to school together. Your Aunt Missy said that uh, you have a slight case of amnesia and that you would probably not remember me."

Rusti's whole face dipped into shock and sadness. THAT'S what the whole 'date game' with Cynyr was all about? She'd lost her memory! Rusti's eyes batted in surprise. What caused that? Was it the fall? Or maybe just the stress and anxiety of events or . . . oh . . . Primus! "I'm sorry, Cody." she answered quietly. "I guess you're right." That choked her and Rusti turned away. Part of her world was gone. Evil left its mark on her as it did the city.

Cody dared to touch her bandaged hand carefully. "That's okay. We were good friends and we can be friends again, right, Rusti? You can help me with English still, right? You're smart with that stuff."

Rusti wiped a tear as she looked back at him. She nodded and sniffed. He kindly handed her a tissue and she blew her nose. "Than-" she had to clear her throat, "-thank you, Cody."

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile, but it wasn't an easy-going sort. Cody and his mother left Rusti with an emptier feeling and she wondered where her life was going from this point on.

"I'm tellin' ya, I'm terrified! What if he's planning to do something else? I mean, can you believe all the reports about the bodies found in his quarters?"

"Shhh! The girl isn't supposed to know anything."

Too late. Rusti heard them talking about Rodimus. What was wrong? She opened her eyes as one nurse disconnected her from the IV, the other took her blood pressure.

"What day is it?" she asked the one taking her blood pressure.

"Thursday, November 13." She was more cheerful than the last nurse. "And today Doctor Cynyr is kicking you out of here. You're not to do a lot of walking, but you are to eat little meals six times a day. You'll get a paper explaining all that."

And before she knew it, the two women left. Rusti didn't know if Cynyr had authorized her to watch the news yet, but she switched TV stations from the bed's remote, searching for local news. It was only 11 AM, however and the only news available was world and national. That would work.

IN JAPAN, REPAIRS ARE UNDERWAY AS FORT HORIZON RETURNS TO LIFE AFTER A SERIES OF STRANGE HURRICANES SLAMMED AGAINST THE COAST, KILLING FORTY-TWO PEOPLE. HORIZON CITY COMMANDER CONVOY OFFERS ASSURANCE THAT EVENTS AFFECTING FORT MAXIMUS IN OREGON, USA HAVE NOT HAD AS MUCH AN IMPACT IN HORIZON, HOWEVER THERE HAVE BEEN INDICATIONS OF MECHANICAL FAILURES WHICH MAY OR MAY NOT BE RELATED.

Rusti shut it off. Sports was not interesting enough to warrant her attention. Not even if the Lunar Colony won its sixth football game in a row.

The nurses talked about Rodimus. What was wrong? What were they so afraid of? Rusti decided if they did not release her in the next hour, she'd have to take matters into her own hands.

She had to rise to the occasion on her own. The girl dressed and made her bed (though she knew they'd come and change it anyway) and realized there were no shoes. Captain Fairborn brought her here 'as is'. It meant a trip to either her room in the EDC complex or at Central Command would be necessary. The city grounds, no doubt, would be littered with glass.

She glanced this way and there to make sure nurses who attended her would not catch her sneaking out. Rusti was sure she'd hear about it all later. A little fun now, pay for it later, she supposed.

The way was clear and she made her way down the hall and glancing at the directional sign board, took a right. Patients and hospital staff came and left, most of them on business of their own. So far, so good. The girl took a left and passed the cafeteria and there stood the exit with only an 'inmate' guarding the way. And he was in a wheelchair. Rusti walked a little more quickly, but kept mindful of her feet-no shoes or socks and the skin was repaired only yesterday.

She rounded her way about the old man in the wheelchair, pushed open the doors and stepped into the vestibule. No alarms sounded, no nurses came dashing down the hall to call her back. Ha! They still hadn't checked her room! Perhaps in two more hours they'd get around to discharging her. Rusti had better things to concern herself than their little power-play. She stepped out to the big wide world.

But Rusti found she was not prepared mentally or emotionally to face the sight of the city.

Buildings stood lop-sided. The metal plating making the roads and walkways of the city were torn up, melted down or blasted clear through. Rusti did not recognize the city. It was as though Godzilla had made a personal appearance. Signs and poles and street lights were uprooted or smashed down.

There! That was the fountain that belonged to Medical and the R & D complex. Emergency crews fought to patch up roadways as quickly as possible.

In the distance, Rusti heard someone shout and sirens sounded. What was it? Were either Optimus or Roddi coming back?

No! Part of Ascension Grade came crashing down, creating a strange rumbling sound. Rusti never saw such devastation before. She wasn't sure how to react to it but another part of her mind gave her the answer: ignore it and find Optimus and Rodimus before the Autobots do.

Yeah. Right. She, a . . . a . . . how old was she? Fifteen? Sixteen? No, don't get distracted right now. First, she needed shoes and clothes. Glancing this way and that, Rusti recognized her setting; Medical. So EDC district was nearby.

The girl picked her way about, carefully stepping over things, but still managing to cut and scrape her feet on debris. One street after another demonstrated the power of the two Autobot leaders. Everywhere she went, Rusti heard voices around her say how shocked they were by the amount of destruction. How could just two people do so much damage? Rusti wanted to laugh at them inwardly, knowing that Optimus and Rodimus were much more than 'just people', but she herself was shocked by the amount of damage-and the severity of it.

"Hey!" Gort called out to her from a small cart, "Aren't you supposed to be in Medical?

"I escaped!" she returned as repair crews let fall part of a nearby building.

"Where are you going in your bare feet, girl?"

"To my room in EDC."

He waved his hand toward himself, inviting her aboard. At least Gort would not take her back; thinking she'd go to EDC and stay there like a good girl. Rusti climbed onto the little car and they rolled slowly along the sidewalk. The ride was bumpy as the tough tires crunched on glass and metal shards. Rusti brushed glass and dirt off the bottoms of her feet. Yes, they bled a little, but she'd live. They traveled along, passing flattened vehicles and parking lots obliterated as though a meteorite had slammed into them. Not far off, First Aid examined an Autobot, shook his head and his assistants covered the Autobot's head. The poor fellow was dead. How many died? How many were wounded? Who was stupid enough to stay out here?

Seven miles from the Research and Development facility, Gort slowed and pulled to the EDC building. Every window there lay on the ground in tiny pieces. The door ways were busted in and the eastern corner slumped like a melted candle. Security checked ID's and asked questions to repair personnel who walked in or out of the building.

"Here we are, Girl. You'll have to tell them your name or they won't likely let you in."

She threw him a smile of gratitude. Walking here would have been a nightmare. "Thank you, Mister Gort." and she slipped off. His little vehicle vreemed off and she carefully made her way to the front entrance.

"Name?"

"Rusti Witwicky."

The officer, a top-heavy lady with a piercing gaze, scrutinized the girl and lifted her communicator. "Dave, tell Captain Fairborn her little lost puppy has come home, would ya?" Rusti tried to rush past her but the officer grabbed the girl round the back of her gown and robe. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

There were times when Rusti wished she could transform and fly away. She frowned. "I want my clothes."

"You were supposed to stay at the ward until released. Then you would have HAD clothes, girl. Your Aunt Missy's on her way."

Rusti stared at her, annoyed. "Do you really want me to stand out here in my jammies and catch a cold? I'd like to go up to my room and get something warmer on. Aunt Marissa can find me there." And then she turned on the puppy-eyes routine.

The security officer eyed her suspiciously, then relented. "Alright. But no funny stuff, Rusti. Your aunt's worried sick about you."

Rusti remembered to walk; if she ran, it might make her look even more suspicious. She made her way down the hall, but found the elevator out of order.

Great.

She padded to the crowded stair rails. People wore solemn faces, their bodies posed with insecurity, keeping close to the wall or one another. A couple of them wept. One lady, assisted by a gentleman, advanced one step at a time, ignoring blood seeping from her hair down her face, her eyes reflecting shock.

Rusti did not know how long she had been in the hospital but seeing this, she guessed it could not have been long enough. Or maybe the wound was fresh; that maybe the lady had tripped and injured herself.

The girl made her way up the last flight to her level and found the hall there almost untouched by the devastation. A bit of caution tape blocked off one wall to the left where words burned their way through. Some residents gave it a glance. Others shied away, perhaps fearful what it might say. Rusti glanced at it and was mildly surprised the words were written in Autobot. It had to be part of the virus attack.

"That is so freaky." one lady remarked.

"Come on," her male friend tugged her arm. "Let's get out of here."

"But what's it saying? What's it mean?"

"I don't KNOW, Norra, but let's GO. Your folks are waiting down stairs."

"No Games," Rusti blurted. She received several stares. "It says 'No Games'. Omk zh'vvupteen." She stared at it, struggling to fathom the reason for its appearance. It could be something Optimus was trying to say, something very important. But it seemed none of the adults either could not or did not want to believe her. That was okay. Rusti did not expect them to understand.

She abandoned the scene for her room and found it untouched. Even her homework remained lying in the same place as she . . . left it. Her mind reeled. Something struggled to surface to her memory but died. What was it? What happened? She fell? From Central? What the hell was she doing there? But try as she did, Rusti could not recall the reason for being there. Might have been that she was trying to reason with Optimus. But then, if that was the case, and she knew it would be dangerous, why didn't she just try to Communicate with him?

The girl turned a book closed to see what she was studying the day it all started.

Psychology? That was weird. What else did she forget? Civics, College prep English, Astronomy . . . would she have to take all these darned classes over again? What grade was she in, anyway?

Something nagged at the back of her mind. Something important. She came here to change her clothes, but there was something else she needed to do . . . think, girl! Her eyes drifted about her room and came to rest on her stereo. Music?

THE Music.

"Ohmigod." she rushed to her dresser and tossed out underclothes, jeans, socks and swiped a blouse from the closet. She wasn't going back out there in the cold fall air without something descent on. But she needed to rush. If the Music felt it imperative to stop the fighting between Optimus and Roddi, chances were they'd come back to their rational minds and slink away and if Magnus was already considering assassinating them, then she had to think of a way to stop him. Magnus, as smart and powerful as he was, would not understand the real situation like the Music. If Optimus and Rodimus died, the entire species would be wiped with them-no! There was no time for figuring out why!

Rusti stopped herself cold. Wait a minute! Think, Girl! If you're going to confront Magnus, you'd better be prepared to make your point absolutely clear! The first rule in playing Dinobot football is preparation against offensive retaliation against all possibilities.

She had to put on her exo-suit.

There was another problem Rusti forgot to think about: escaping before Aunt Missy came in and shipped her somewhere 'safe'. Maybe Max could help her in that department. Rusti stripped off her jammies and started to latch the exo-suit on over her underclothes. "Max?" she called. "Max, I need help." Pause, "Max?"

No response. The girl's heart sank. The city might have been wounded beyond response. She'd get no help from Maximus himself and she felt very much alone. Well, it would seem she'd have to take charge of the situation. Rusti slipped on her light colored jeans then her blouse then scrounged for her jacket and shoes. How the heck was she supposed to sneak out of this big complex without being seen (A) and get back to the ground without trying to be a super hero (B)?

There came no answer to her mind. Rusti decided she'd just have to wait out her chance. The door buzzed at the moment and she knew she'd have no chance now. "Yes?" she sang.

Aunt Missy entered, her eyes stern with disapproval. "Young Lady," Rusti supposed that sounded better than her mother calling her by her birth name, middle and last name. "When you are told to remain in one place, I would hope you'd have enough courtesy to either remain or inform someone where you are going."

"I'm sorry, Aunt Missy." Rusti mumbled. "It's just that I didn't want to wait. I wanted to find Roddi-"

"You can't help them, Rusti." Captain Fairborn's voice came flat and coldly honest. "Now, I want you to gather your things together. I'm taking you out of here."

Rusti stared, her heart skipped a beat in dread. "Out of Fort Max?"

"It's no longer safe for you to stay. I'm taking you to your folks."

"No!" she strongly objected, "I need to find Optimus and Roddi-"

"I already told you-"

"But they need help and-"

"Rusti! We are not having this conversation. Just do as your told. Gather your things. You are coming with me!"

Out of respect for her aunt, Rusti did as she was told and started tossing clothes onto her bed and dragged an empty suitcase out of the closet. But she was devastated. There was no way she was going to leave Optimus and Rodimus behind-especially with Magnus-"Ohmigod," she whispered. Her eyes darted back to Marissa, "Magnus is going to execute them, isn't he? He CAN'T!"

"Rusti!" Marissa's tone grew stronger. "I already said we are not having this discussion. I'm taking you out of the city and that's that! Now gather your homework, let's go!"

Her heart dropped and Rusti miserably piled her books and stuffed them in her backpack. There was not one person in the city willing to protect the two Autobot leaders. Not now, anyway. How many deaths resulted from the Virus? How many lives have been ruined? Too many for the girl to consider.

She finally swung her loaded backpack over her shoulder and held her suitcase in hand, her face long with grief. "What year is it, Aunt Missy? How old am I? Doctor Cynyr said I have amnesia. How is that possible?"

Marissa stroked the girl's curly hair, her face sad. "Trauma can do that, Rusti. Maybe your memory will return eventually. Now let's go. I want to get out of here while there's still light and it's still safe."

Rusti followed her down the hall, considering those last words. "You mean they think Optimus and Roddi might attack the city again? Is that why they're planning the assassination?"

"RUSTI." Marissa growled and glanced over her shoulder. It was a final warning and Rusti closed her mouth, though her mind screamed to do something-ESCAPE FIRST! She silently followed Captain Fairborn down the four flights of stairs and into the lobby. By now it was already more or less cleared of rubble. Undoubtedly repair crews, workers and volunteers would work all night to clean debris and start repairs. It was going to be expensive.

The ladies boarded an Autobot waiting outside for them. The Autobot waiting for them was Neon, a convertible with white, blue and purple trim. Marissa hefted Rusti's suitcase and backpack and waited for the girl to board first then climbed into the driver's seat. Neon shoved off, carefully making his way around crews and taped-off areas.

Marissa turned to Rusti, now a little more relaxed. "I thought your father and Arcee would be able to pick us up, but they've been assigned to assist in the Business District until later tonight."

"Captain," Neon interrupted, "I'm sorry to inform you that crews have blocked off the north-eastern exit out from EDC. We'll have to leave through the Easternside exit."

"Oh great!" Marissa spat. "More delays! Alright, just get us out of here!"

Rusti had a hard time looking at the broken buildings and torn roadways. All that was the glory of Fortress Maximus stood damaged, perhaps beyond repair. However, knowing the Paratrons as she did, Rusti believed they could put the city back together, perhaps better than new. After all, look what they did to Central Command in so short a time!

A good eight or nine miles later, they reached the Communications District. The one fountain which she and Optimus once sat beside staring at the stars still stood, though no water surged from its mirrored steps. It really had not sustained that much damage. Neither did most of the buildings here at Communication Station.

A flash image of Rodimus struck Rusti hard and she couldn't breathe for a moment. He was in terrible pain. Not so much physically, though he suffered from that, too, but most of it was in his heart. He sat against his door, bleeding and hoping he'd bleed to death. She couldn't let that happen! But what could she do? They were on their way out of the city! Her grey eyes carefully checked Aunt Missy and to the girl's relief, Captain Fairborn's attention was elsewhere, maybe on the distant horizon where most buildings were damaged by firepower or melted by Matrix energies.

Then Neon had to stop for the crossing of several crews. THAT was her chance! Rusti leapt out and made as mad a dash as her feet could carry her. Fairborn screamed after her, but no matter how much Marissa shouted, Rusti was determined not to get caught. She HAD to get to Optimus and Rodimus before Magnus did! Fear struck her stomach hard, but she kept running from one damaged building to another, listening for Neon's stomping feet or Aunt Marissa's calls. Magnus was going to assassinate the two Autobot leaders, Rusti was damned sure of it. That's why Marissa was taking her out of the city.

"HERE! I'M SURE I SAW HER COME THIS WAY!" Neon's voice filtered along the alleyway and Rusti crouched under the wreckage of fallen walls and ruined ceiling. What was to keep the Autobot from finding her? What would keep Marissa? "Please, please!" she whispered, "don't find me!"

A soft gust of wind blew through the ally and caused something in the next building to fall and crash.

"THERE!" Neon called, "I'M SURE OF IT!"

Rusti waited a while longer then a little longer than that. She had no idea why she was so scared. Maybe she feared not so much for herself, as for the two people she loved.

The girl waited until Neon's voice sounded from afar. Then she crawled out, moving from shadow to shadow and hiding to hiding. Rusti knew if she did not move now, and move quickly, search teams sent in by Fairborn would soon find her and she would be dragged, possibly bound hand and foot, and taken to Central City. The one thing that also frightened her was that her father might actually tie her to a bed or a chair to prevent her from running away.

Rusti finally found a small opening from the one building she moused in and into the next building, presumably, the one in which Roddi's quarters were housed. She climbed through a broken window and paused to look about. The building had no lights; not even emergency lights worked here. She removed her helmet from subspace and hoped it would pick up images she could not see with her unaided eyes.

Sure enough, the helmet's automatic optical system clicked on and gave the girl night vision. She tunneled her way around wreckage and into an untouched corridor. Footprints consisting of mech fluids and blood spotted the way to a door closed to intruders. Rusti followed the prints, recognizing them as Roddi's. With a hand over her heart, she timidly knocked on the door.

_No, Lady-friend. You can't come in. _

"Roddi . . . Roddi I think Magnus is going to send someone to kill you and Optimus. I . . ." She faltered, "I thought I'd warn you." She waited for an answer or an action but one minute turned to five and five became eight. "Roddi?"

_That is the way of things, Lady-friend. Bad things happen. People have to pay the price. _

"What?" Her eyes scanned the height and width of the door standing between she and Rodimus Prime. "Didn't you hear what I just said? Magnus is going to assassinate you and Optimus-and I don't even know where Optimus is-I can't sense him."

Again no answer. Rodimus made a noise and Rusti could tell he sat against his door. She touched it, but it did not open. She sank to her knees and rested her cheek on its ungiving surface. "Roddi, you can't let them do it. You can't let them take you."

_Bad things happen, Rusti. This is the way of things. _

"No!" she answered softly, "no! I don't want you to go! I don't want you to leave me! What about Optimus? You can't leave him, Roddi! He'd die!" She started crying, her body lost its strength and her breath came in gasps. "Wh-what happened wasn't your fault! Roddi! It wasn't your fault!"

_Two Autobot Primes dancing from the strings _

_one tore off and broke his wings. _

_God called the doctor, but the devil replied, _

_don't worry about them, they've already died. _

"Noooo!" Rusti wept hard. "No! You can't! The Autobots-they need you! They can't go on . . . Rodimus . . . Rodimus, Optimus, he'd-he'd not forgive himself and he can't go at it alone!" She sniffed and struggled to steady her voice. "Roddi?"

But he did not answer. He had nothing more to say. He would just stay there and wait for Magnus to come and find him. Through her tears, Rusti noticed a puddle seeping from under the door. She touched it and though she could not see the blue color, she could tell it was blood. Rusti stood. Rodimus was willing to either lean against the door and bleed to death or wait for Magnus to come and finish what the Virus started.

What could she do? He was beyond reason. Roddi wanted to be punished for whatever crimes or sins he committed. But the price Rodimus was willing to pay would pass to his people. Perhaps his sorrow was so great that he was unable to take into account what his death would do to others. He wasn't even thinking clearly enough to consider what it would do to Optimus.

Optimus. If Rusti could find Optimus and bring him here, perhaps Optimus Prime could get Roddi to fight his despair. A glimmer of hope rose in her heart. "Roddi . . . Roddi, I'm going to get Optimus, okay? I-please, please don't do anything until I get back, okay? Promise?"

Still no answer. Rusti decided to just take that as an affirmative. But her time was short. Where in this large city would she find Optimus? Central Command was out of the question.

Come on, Girl . . . THINK! But she could not come up with an answer. The city was so big and so many people were involved and most likely, many of them would alert Magnus and Marissa before Rusti could reach Optimus.

Wait a minute . . . what about ROLLER! If anybody knew where to find Optimus and how to get to him, it'd be the little spy car.

Oh. But then, how would she find Roller?

She slumped against the wall but continued her advance toward the outside. Maybe . . . maybe she could use the intercom from her own exo-suit. The risk she'd take there was that other people might hear her on the same frequency. Rusti stopped before a case of stairs. She tried to think hard but her emotions made things fuzzy. How often had she taken little trips in the spy car-Epsilon 9! The frequency was Epsilon 9! She was so excited, she nearly cried again. The girl sniffed and searched her pockets for a handkerchief or a napkin but found nothing, not even in her coat. Damn.

The world sank toward sunset when Rusti managed out of the Communications center. She wanted to leave under the cloak of darkness, knowing Max would not be operational for several more hours yet and security would be tight. Roller promised to wait and meet her at signal-point. That was a comfort. But she wondered how the little car was, since it felt everything Optimus went through.

Rusti had to wait ten minutes before receiving a soft signal over the comline. Her heart pounded and her skin turned cold in anxiety. The little car arrived and in light of the setting sun, Rusti noticed how its skin peeled down to a sickly grey. Metal shards punctuated his tires and there was no mistaking that nasty dent and slice alongside the poor car's right fender. But he still came for her and Rusti climbed in. Then she started crying. Her whole world was about to crash down around her and although she knew they had good intentions, it would have been wrong for Magnus and Marissa to take her away. Rusti wiped her tears with her sleeve and sniffed, wishing she had a tissue.

Roller bleeped and lowered a compartment on the passenger side. Rusti smiled. A box of tissues sat there alongside a bottle of water and a drawing pad. Picnic stuff she kept aside for those wonderful springtime days under the sun when Dinobot football and flowers were more important than stuffy parents and an overload of homework.

The spy car rolled through the city at a slower pace. No happy zipping along, nothing defying either gravity or authority. Rusti shared his despair. The city and everyone in it suffered horribly. Now they wanted Optimus and Roddi to pay with their lives. Rusti was not willing to accept Roddi's resignation. He regarded his sins, but his death was not the answer. There had to be another way. They needed Optimus and Rodimus. There was no one else who could keep the Autobot society together. And what of the Matrix? Would the Autobots be willing to destroy it, too? If they did that, if they considered it, they would certainly be on their way to genocide. And wasn't that what the Quintessons wanted?

Roller parked just outside the embankment of Autobot River.

Rusti took in the surroundings. Her mind was so preoccupied with the events and how to deal with them she did not take into account as to where she and Roller were going. They were outside the city! She turned back, examining the bridges then back at the river. "Roller, this can't be right! I wanted to find Optimus, not leave the city!" But the little car did not reply. Why the hell did it do this to her? She jumped out and stared at Fort Max. The Upper Level still stood. Several bright lights dotted the town where repair crews worked at a furious pace.

Maybe . . . maybe it was all for the best. If Magnus was going to kill Optimus, maybe it was best she not be there to see it. Her eyes blurred with tears. She didn't want him and Roddi to die! They were her family! Magnus was going to take away her family! Rusti collapsed, weeping. There would be no more reason to remain in the city. Optimus would not be in his office anymore. Roddi wouldn't be there to tell her his dumb stories. She could not imagine her world without them. Rusti blew her nose and gazed at Roller. Who would take care of him? Would he 'die' if Optimus died? If not, he'd be the only part she'd have left of Optimus. Rusti vowed to take care of Roller.

Nobody would be there to call her 'Baby bird'.

She wept harder, "don't leave me!" she begged. Another pair of tissues left the box. Rusti stared across the river. No stars twinkled over it. No moon rose to shadow the outlines of brush or tree. Roller bleeped in a slow, mournful tone. Rusti did not know what he was saying. She was not inclined to read it, either. She plucked up another pair of tissues and wiped her face. It was going to be a long sleepless night.

Oh Primus, god of Cybertron! Have mercy upon me, the darkest among the wicked! Wash me clean of my failures, for I am but a servant.  
Purge the darkness from me for I ask naught but of your mercies.  
I ask not of greatness nor power nor talent, but strength to work another day.  
I ask for mercy for my torn soul; that you acknowledge my despondent spark.  
There is neither laughter nor peace within me, Primus.  
I lay before you an abomination of iniquity.  
Where is the light? Where is the dawn that I may rise to serve you and your people, the Autobots?  
Have I done such evil that you find me despicable? I am broken before you and long for healing.  
Am I yet your servant? For I declare your words and attend your laws with care.  
Move upon me, oh, Primus, as you would a great and honorable warrior.  
I live for your mercies and strive to serve your commands.

But only silence returned to Optimus. He lay waiting for the death that seemed to continually elude him for meganiums. Perhaps, just perhaps, this time he would die, stay dead and leave this life of ceaseless struggles. He did not deserve-nor desire-another chance.

---------------------------------------

Dawn came, but the sun could not push through the clouded Oregon sky. The temperature dropped overnight and Rusti lay in Roller, grateful for the little blanket. No one found her. Roller managed to pass through the city without anyone taking notice; that was the beauty of traffic. But another sound beat the wind above and when her mind pieced together what she heard, Rusti snapped up. She searched the clouds for a low-flier and her suspicions were confirmed; an Aerialbot crossed the sky, probably looking for her. She sat on her knees and decided it really wouldn't matter now. Optimus was gone and soon would be dead. She would fight with everything she had to keep Roller.

Rusti slipped off the little spy car for a stretch. The river soundlessly flowed southward, rippling against the banks just enough to lap at the ground. Not far from there stretched a bridge leading from the main roadway in Fort Max several miles to the graveyard.

Several splotches of blue color rose to the water's surface and smeared along the top of the river. That was weird. Rusti gathered her jacket closer and watched again. Another patch of blue rose and dissipated down the riverway.

"Ohmigod," she whispered. Was that what she thought it might be? The girl turned to Roller. "Is-is Optimus down there?" Her eyes were wide with hope.

"Bl'teep!"

"Ohmigod." Rusti tossed off her jacket, undid the exo-suit gloves so she could feel her way about, cast off her shoes and removed the shoes from the exo-suit. She needed her senses to move about in the water. Leaving her pants and blouse on, the girl dipped her toes in first. Oh, biting, freezing, freaking cold! It shot straight up her body and Rusti thought she'd turn into an ice cube on the spot!

No, Optimus was more important than her physical discomforts! She dared a few inches in, but it was hard moving when the water was cold. "Optimus!" she called.

Well, that wasn't so smart. How was he supposed to answer her? No, he wasn't going to come up, say: "hi, Rusti, leave me alone, I'm trying to die', and go back down. She'd have to go after him.

Rusti took several deep breaths knowing the cold would shock her system. She was partly right. The cold bit her hands and feet and head. She thought her hair would freeze over and fall off. But her arms, legs and mid section felt nothing. The exo-suit apparently read the extreme temperatures and 'kicked in', protecting the rest of her body from the terrible cold. Rusti now regretted not using her helmet.

Could she still use it, even though her hair was wet? She didn't see why not. Dinobot football was played even in the Oregon summer storms.

She needed her helmet. Rusti rose back to the surface and called it out of subspace. At least it'd allow her to see in the murky cold river waters. Holding her breath, she returned. The optical systems adjusted to the lightless world and within five feet, Rusti found Optimus' form lying at the bottom of the river. She fought against the current and managed to touch his shoulder. What the hell was he doing down here, anyway? Was he really irrational enough to think he could drown himself?

She wanted to hit him, hoping to bring him to his senses, but water allowed for no such actions. Besides, hitting him would do no good. Optimus would not respond to such treatment. She knew better than to approach him from a 'stiff upper lip' perspective. She traced the edge of his shoulder but knew she did not have all the time in the world-the suit was not prepared for an airless atmosphere. She hugged the corner of his shoulder then struggled to get back to the surface. Rusti swam back to the bank and gasped for air. At least, at the very least, she found him. But what was she going to do? If Optimus were unconscious, there would be no way of reaching him. If she stayed here too long, chances were the other Autobots would find him. The thought drove spikes through her heart. Rusti wanted to cry, but her freezing feet and hands overrode her ability to express that emotion. What was she going to do?

She honestly did not know. No ideas came to her, brilliant or otherwise. She decided to go back and stay with him as long as she could, even if she had to return to the surface often to catch her breath.

Rusti followed her plan. She dipped into the cold river, stayed with Optimus' sunken form as long as she could then returned topside for a breath. But after the fourth time, her vision started to blur; her head spun. This was an exercise in futility if there ever was one!

But did it matter? No. Only her love mattered. Only those few precious moments left mattered. Rusti submerged again and wrapped her arms about his shoulder. She wanted to cry.

The water suddenly stirred, the currents strengthened and Optimus' body shifted. Before she could swim back to the surface, his hand clasped about her tiny form and water pressed her against his metal plating.

The air met her, prickling cold on her hands and feet. Then down his hand went-a bit too fast-and Rusti leapt upon the grass to avoid a possible accident. She backed off as he crumbled; half of his form still lay in the water, the other half lay on the river bank. The girl could not hold back her tears and she dashed to him, hugging a part of his helm. Miraculously, Optimus' body was not scraped or dented as badly as she imagined it might have been. But then, maybe it was repairing itself while he lay submerged.

"Optimus?" she whispered. She watched as his optics flickered. The cold red or dampened blue was not there anymore. A soft, familiar baby blue flared slightly. Was the madness gone?

The soft roar of mechanical engines approached over the distance from Fort Max. The Autobots had found them. She glanced over her shoulder and sure enough, there was Ultra Magnus, obviously out against First Aid's orders. Kup, Delta Sunstreaker and Daniel/Arcee tagged him. Rusti narrowed her eyes. How many Autobots does it take to assassinate a single helpless Autobot leader?

The Music rolled out from the ground, surging in fear. Rusti heard it, even if they could not. She dared a few steps away from Optimus, just enough to stand as a barrier between he and they.

Magnus arrived first and transformed. He winced, proving Rusti's assumption was correct; he should not even be out here. The other Autobots followed suit with Daniel/Arcee tossing an angry look at the girl. But Rusti was not going to cower before her own father. The Music was more powerful than any of them; or all of them put together.

"Rusti," Magnus' voice came tired, sorry. "You've frightened and worried a lot of people. You should have said something."

"Don't feed me bull, Magnus. I know why you're here." Rusti clenched her cold fists and considered slipping on the suit's gloves.

Magnus frowned. His optics shifted into a darker shade. "We don't want to do this, Rusti. I swear. But if we and the city are to survive-"

"I WON'T let you TOUCH HIM!" Rusti about screamed it. "If the situation were reversed and it was you lying here behind me, Optimus would do everything in his power, within an INCH of his LIFE to save you. I know what Doctor Scott said-I was there. And he's wrong. Where there's life, there's hope."

Magnus struggled to control himself. How was he going to reason with this child? "Rusti, have you seen the city? Do you know how many people have died?"

"Neither Optimus nor Rodimus had control over what they were doing, Ultra Magnus."

"I can't excuse that, Rusti."

"He's . . . right, Russstii." Optimus' voice came to her in slow mournful tones. "Let him do what he must. The Autobots-"

"-are wrong!" Rusti interrupted. She glanced from Prime back to Magnus and his group. "The Music-the Matrix still believes in him! You CAN'T DO THIS, Magnus!"

Ultra Magnus sighed and looked to Daniel/Arcee.

The Headmaster femme took a step forward. "Stand aside, Resonna," Daniel ordered, using Arcee's voice. It came over hard, demanding.

"No!" Rusti shouted. She cared not who told her to do it.

"I am you father and I'm TELLING you to STAND ASIDE!"

"I SAID NO!" The Music vibrated from the ground and made her nerves tingle. "I WON'T LET YOU TOUCH HIM!"

Daniel/Arcee drew a weapon. Whether he intended to use it or not was a guess, but Magnus noticed the gun was NOT set for stun. "DO IT!"

When Rusti spoke, she heard only herself, but the Autobots heard something far deeper, far stronger than her mousy little voice. It was commanding, strong, resistant, authoritative. "THE LIFE OF THIS ONE IS WORTH ALL YOURS. I WILL NOT PERMIT HIS DEATH UNTIL 'I' TAKE HIM."

Magnus, Sunstreaker, Kup and Delta all stepped back. They recognized that authority. Arcee, in the control of a Human who cared nothing for authority, remained, weapon trained on the young girl. But it seemed a conflict occurred within and Arcee shook her head, lowered the weapon. She too stepped back, but her face took on several expressions: anger, repulsion, sadness, demand, then finally resigned agreement. She cast her optics to the ground, her lip components cast downward.

Magnus patched into the central comline, "Ambiance, get me First Aid. We found Optimus Prime." And with that, the city commander bowed his head. Rusti read a mix of sorrow, defeat and relief in his expression.

---------------------------------------

NOVEMBER 21

It snowed outside. Some of the city's scars were graciously hidden by the white coat of winter. The silent snowstorm interfered with most repairs being done to Fort Max, but the Autobots remained undaunted and worked day and night to get the city operational again. All the melted buildings either mysteriously corrected themselves or had to be torn apart and replaced. Rusti never thought she'd be so glad to see winter finally arrive.

She turned from the window in Prime's room in Medical to her psychology book. Inside a week, she managed to completely catch up with her class mates. But Dr. Cynyr insisted she stayed home and submit her assignments via email for a while longer. The shock she suffered needed time to abate.

Privately the girl could not argue with him. She constantly flipped through her school yearbook and photo albums and crossed photographs containing information that meant nothing to her. Some of them she wrote and asked Dezi about, others she had to ask Aunt Missy. And in spite of their memories, it was all just so much information to her. Rusti remembered nothing of last Christmas or Easter. She did not remember the birthday party she attended at the VR park or the girl, Jenn, who scribbled the inside of her yearbook. She did not remember Cody (what a sweety!), Mrs. Banks, last year's English teacher or Mrs. Abbassi, the art instructor who encouraged her to keep drawing. Words and pictures without memories made Rusti feel as though she were reading about someone else's life.

She fell six Autobot stories (equivalent to 240 feet) and came out alive. Miraculous enough, but not without cost. And what the hell was she doing in Central Command, anyway? Marissa told her everyone in the city had more or less evacuated the topside of Maximus and if that was the case, then why didn't she go? What the heck was she thinking? Maybe she felt she could talk some sense into Optimus.

Somehow, that idea felt wrong. Rusti knew better. If Optimus was already insane, talking sense to him would prove as futile as charging a block of alpha-titanium.

The girl inwardly shrugged and glued her eyes back to the text book. She had five pages left. Math was already finished, spelling was done and she completed her civics lessons (for the week) last night. Rusti considered telling someone about her new-found abilities, but decided it best to keep quiet about it.

Oh, what the hell. She closed the book and picked up her cup of cocoa. Across the room lay Optimus on a flat sheet of metal. He seemed uncomfortable there. The Autobots might have the ability to walk and talk and identify with Humans, but there were still many aspects of their nature that remained alien. That made the girl consider the kind of powers, unnatural, or otherwise, possessed by the Autobots. No one would have guessed any Autobot to have the power to control the Earth's atmosphere so that the sun could not pass through. No one thought or dreamed any life form had the ability to manipulate metal.

But the Virus proved otherwise. Look at the power the two Autobot leaders had! Who would have imagined Optimus had those kind of abilities? Why had he never used them before? Why didn't he use them on the Decepticons? Would that not have ended the war millions of years ago?

The same went for Rodimus. Roddi tried to create allies for the Autobots by making peace agreements. How futile THAT proved! The Interplanetary Games was a nice thing, but they failed to change the minds of other citizens across the galaxy. Even bringing to light the Quintesson plot regarding the L'Narkian-Z'Taxan War did not necessarily make things better. The Autobots gained a little more respect and a few more trade agreements, but friends and allies?

That thought circled back to Rodimus. Rusti heard news of the bodies of at least ten victims from Rodimus' quarters. What the hell was he doing? Rusti thought hard about him, what kind of person he was, what he might have been doing or thinking to encase several Autobots in plaster and other art mediums. She didn't know he was an artist. What else didn't she know about him? What in the name of Primus was going on in his head? Rusti wondered if Roddi painted in his quarters, too and why Max didn't alert anyone about the murders.

Whatever happened, it finally resulted in Rodimus leaving Fort Max for New York without so much as a good-bye to anyone. He left in the dead of the night without fanfare or a note. Rusti heard that for a while Magnus thought Roddi had committed suicide. Of course, all the City Commander had to do was come and ask her, before listening to rumors. But Magnus' own mind was aflutter with desperation and fear after his own encounter with Prime and discovering Kup inside a temple, divided into five parts.

Something about that incident nagged the girl and she wracked her brain about it every time she thought of it. But answers did not come forward and Rusti eventually abandoned it.

Roddi left without telling her good-bye. Why? What was he so afraid of? Maybe guilt for his deeds, the murders, drove him away, unable to face what he did-what the Virus caused him to do. And maybe that was the most difficult thing to deal with. The events in the last several weeks were not the fault of the two Prime, but of the Virus. Yes, the acts were heinous, destructive, even depraved. But if Optimus and Rodimus were not at fault, should they still be executed?

It was a tough, tough question. Maybe it was Optimus who suggested Roddi leave for the time being, though Rusti couldn't imagine Optimus making such a suggestion. She knew the two Autobot leaders talked, but she was not there to hear them.

Whatever happened, it would forever mark souls and lives. It made the girl realize that evil scars whatever it touches and from here forward, nothing would ever be the same.

Optimus Prime thought about praying again. But after finding neither consolation nor answers, discouragement replaced hope and he stopped asking Primus for help. Terrible emptiness gripped his laser core. Was he doomed to fight the Virus time after time? Why? Why did Magnus not assassinate him? What happened? Was this a mistake Magnus would later regret?

More importantly, what caused the Virus to stop?

Maybe it no longer mattered. His optics flickered on, finding a sterile-white room in Medical and at the window, on the countertop there sat a little figure whose attention was aimed at the outside world. He saw it, too; a bitter rain drenched the city with ice slush, washing scrapes and laser burns.

Optimus did not know if he could bear to look another person in the optic. His memory told him of a horrific battle, his body lay witness to it all, but in spite of the struggled to recall, a curtain of darkness draped over his mind, offering mere snatches of memories. What did he do? What did he say? And what about Rodimus?

A picture of Rodimus' face, angry, ugly, scratched and snarling like an animal shot across Prime's memory banks. Optimus remembered rage. He remembered fighting and how his lasercore vibrated within him so that he thought he would explode.

Then he remembered Magnus again and -oh Primus! What demonic force possessed him to do what he did? He remembered Central Command's lobby and the statue and Magnus, impaled upon the weapon. Life blood and fluids seeped from the wound while smoldering trails of a damaged system smoked the ceiling high above them.

And Roddi's bloodied footprints trailed along the hallway floor.

His thoughts caused him to stir from the flat. Monitoring lines and feeders swung with his movements and a tiny beep betrayed his conscious state to another presence in the room.

"Shhhh. Optimus. They'll find out I'm here."

The small, familiar voice startled Prime and he froze. His gaze rested on Rusti's little form, bundled in a long sweater and bandages. A stack of books and a hot cup of cocoa gathered about her right side. Her watchful eyes pinned him and Optimus settled, a little more relieved.

"Was it a bad dream?" She pressed a button on a small box connected to a set of headphones sitting over her ears. Rusti hunched over, now staring at him with worry.

He deserved no kindness. His sins were too great for anyone's goodness. " . . . Magnus," Prime managed to answer quietly. "I was thinking of Ultra Magnus."

A slight smile lifted her face, "he's okay. He's been very busy. He's asked Jazz and Convoy to help out." Rusti looked a bit smug and picked up a book at the place it was marked. "Of course, I'm not supposed to know anything. Cynyr's put me on this substitute life style. He thinks he's doing me a favor."

Magnus, the tireless warrior, was alright. The city and its people were being cared for. The Autobot leader took that fragment of goodness to heart.

Another flash of bloodied footprints crossed his mind and Prime flinched, unsure what was going on. "Rodimus," he whispered to himself.

Rusti studied him. She glanced at all the monitors and scans and deduced the dream, whatever it might have been, caused a bit too much distress. "Optimus," she whispered, "don't be worried. We're all okay. Go back to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up."

He did not know if he should take comfort in her words. Promises were such fleeting things. "What day, Rusti?" he quietly asked. That was an old tactic but a useful one.

"Friday." Rusti choked a little, unsure if she should tell him anything. But sooner or later Optimus would find out for himself, anyway. Someone else would tell him all the awful details. Maybe it was best that he heard it from her rather than First Aid or receive a cold-facts report from Ultra Magnus. "I-I overheard them talking, Optimus." She had a hard time keeping her voice steady. At least she wasn't crying over it. Rusti glanced from her music player back to his blue optics. "They said you-ahem-you were frail and that if you . . . if you don't get the rest you need, you could have a neural crash."

He wasn't that surprised but grateful she had the courage to tell him herself. Prime assumed Rusti was in his room without permission. How like her, he thought. "I see," he replied quietly. He settled back on the flat and realized how exposed he really felt. Optimus forgot how much he hated sterile rooms like this with only the table and a window. Rooms like this never used to bother him, but maybe some event several years ago changed his attitude toward such surroundings.

And once more, Roddi's bloodied footprints flashed across his mind. It was a memory that tried to resurface and his own consciousness tried to suppress it. "Will you be here a while longer, Rusti?" he asked quietly.

"Of course I will." her little confident voice filled the room; she was not going to leave him by himself.

Prime relaxed and recalled the images of the footprints. There was a long corridor leading to Roddi's own quarters. Rubble and damaged support beams blocked the entrance to the hallway. But he remembered pushing his way through it. Morning light dimly illuminated his path.

The image shifted abruptly to the city. Memories of the city opened a flood of pictures. Shattered windows and broken lights. Smashed vehicles and streets empty of people, but littered with refuse.

Switch: It seemed his memories were not going to come to him in any particular order. He would recall only whatever was important, or whatever inspired the strongest amount of emotion. There was a pool of blood at the end of the trail of footprints in the hall. The lifeblood slowly eked from under the door to Roddi's quarters.

Shift again:

There was the building in the Communications District,

slumped cold like a used candle. Prime laid his hand over his chest. Would they have to replace all these building melted under such extra natural power? How many buildings would have to be dismantled? And now he remembered the walls surrounding the city and the faces on them and wondered if they too yet remained.

A tiny light flickered in his laser core. Optimus reached out and touched the slumped metal. This was a wound, not a damaged building. This was a part of Max and although most buildings were a part of Autobot City, not every building was actually a part of Max's huge form.

"Be healed." he softly told it. It was so sad and Optimus felt so much grief for it. As he walked away, the molecules started to scramble and reorganize themselves, waking other sleeping molecules and bit by bit, the metallic matter buzzed with activity

Shift:

"Rodimus?" The memories jumped back to Rodimus. "Rodimus?" His usual strong voice fell whisper-quiet. He was about to lose someone he did not think he could survive without. Prime rested next to the door to Roddi's quarters. He brushed it with his fingers. _Roddi . . . Roddi, Don't go._

Shift:

. . . the thing behind him trembled and writhed as though Maximus himself were giving it birth. The building's form twisted and became a hundred-foot version of the Virus . . .

Shift:

Roddi's answer came soft and sad, "I deserve nothing short of death . . ." The pool of fluids rippled toward the middle of the hall, now. Rodimus was very weak. Optimus felt his pain and blamed himself. What could he have done to prevent all this? What measures should he have considered when he first encountered the darkness? Where and when did it all start?

He was about to lose someone he did not think he could live without.

Shift:

Transforming hurt. Optimus remembered shuddering with pain but managed. Magnus begged him not to leave, to allow them to take him to Medical. But Roddi . . .Roddi was dying, too.

His legs ached. His chest burned both from within and without. He deserved it. For all the sins he committed, he deserved nothing good, kind or happy. Surely there was a special place reserved for him in the Pitt. Surely Primus had forsaken him by now. Who could forgive an Autobot leader who murdered his own people?

Optimus traveled along darkened streets, using only his sensors to guide him around refuse. He dared not use his lights; he did not want to see anything. But his sensors still told him of damaged buildings and gutted streets. His mind tormented him with visions of those who probably died. He deserved no forgiveness for this atrocity. Perhaps Magnus spared him so that Optimus could regret everyday of his life all the horrible things he inflicted up on his own.

_I don't want you to leave, I do not want you to die._ Prime sat slumped on one side of the door and knew Rodimus was slumped against the other. How could he convince his friend to stay alive? How could he convince himself that there was a future ahead of them, if they would just look beyond this moment?

_I must atone for my sins. _

Plasma fires burned out of control in the Business District. Ascension Grade was torn up. Several communication satellites were charred beyond use. Optimus did not think even the Decepticons could have committed a greater catastrophe, except for bringing Cybertron to Earth's orbit.

_Go._ Rodimus did not want to argue anymore, _take care of the Autobots . . . and my Lady-friend._

Dread. He rose on his knees, nearly grasping the door, "No! I WON'T let you go! Not like this! Rodimus!"

Someone screamed . . . a fluffy duffy plunged from a building. It screamed as the fountain below seemed to rise from Max's plated flooring and swallow the toy like a monster would a sacrificial virgin.

Why was there a fluffy duffy and why did he remember it? What was so important about it?

_Please . . . leave._ Roddi's voice brought him back, pouring through his memories like a vibro-knife through several layers of tinfoil.

"I can't do this . . ." Optimus' own voice came in tones of resignation. " . . . can no longer do it alone."

And from there silence crept over the world and the door between them. Optimus could not longer afford to care about anything anymore. They brought him back from the dead to punish him for all the evil he brought into the universe. Rodimus had made his mind. Words were so trifle now. Even Optimus could not believe them anymore. He hated the Virus. He hated the Matrix. He hated his responsibilities. He hated himself. "Roddi," his voice fell so soft, so sad, "Roddi . . . don't leave me-" He choked, unable to breathe. Rodimus was going to die.

Bury it all deep, Optimus, he told himself. Rodimus wanted to die. Bury it all down, down, down. Drown your sorrow in business and leadership. But he no longer had the strength to do so. One war after another, one friend after another, one lover . . . After five meganiums it should get easier-oh, there'll be another to replace that loved one, or another friend to come along and replace this one. But that's not how it works. It's one hollow valley in his soul after another. Once more that part of his life would be empty. He made the mistake of loving someone. He cursed Primus. He cursed the Matrix. He cursed himself.

No more words. Rodimus was leaving him. Rusti would grow up. His whole life was a blasphemy. The Quintessons brought him back to make him suffer for all his sins before dying again.

What the Pitt. Rusti couldn't possibly love him anyway. Wrong species, wrong age, wrong-everything in his life was wrong.

The door between them slid open just a little. Rodimus peeked through but aside dimming his optics on, Prime paid it no mind.

"Optimus?" Roddi's voice cracked a bit when he tried to whisper. "Are you still here with me?" Prime did not answer. "Primus damn, you're stubborn when you want to be."

The expanding puddle of blood wasn't just Rodimus', Optimus needed medical attention, too.

" . . . if you promise to keep trying . . ."

They carried out a total of fourteen bodies from Roddi's quarters; Autobots and Humans alike.

" . . . if you promise to keep trying . . ."

That whole building in Communications was dismantled but not before crews found seven dead and missing Autobots inside Rodimus' sculpture work.

" . . . if you promise . . . I suppose I can give it a shot myself. We can live today."

Touched by evil, nothing would ever be the same.

First Aid released Optimus from Medical two days after Thanksgiving with the stipulation that he did as close to nothing as possible-physically or otherwise. It was not an empty threat and as weary as he was, Optimus doubted he could do anything other than follow medical orders.

That did not preclude him from returning to his office and sorting through digipads. Magnus had previously removed most of them and divided the responsibilities between Convoy and Jazz. While Jazz didn't mind the extra load of work, Convoy eyed her share with dread.

Prime sorted through what remained of his workload. Permit requests for bodyguards and security lined up one digipad after another. There was a complaint about two Autobots racing down Stardrive Avenue in Central City. After that, Optimus found a digipad regarding the construction of fortress-city Zenith on Mars. There were detailed plans and ideas for head staff and an idea of assigning Strike Back as city commander. An older digipad lay under that one. It contained a letter from Dr. Paul Gates regarding the construction of six new Autobots-a project dating clear back to 2012. The details were vague in the letter except to say the bodies were still in mid-stage of completion and that Gates would contact him in a matter of weeks-well, back then, anyway.

Prime sat back in his chair, tapping the corner of the pad against his chin. The idea of new Autobots was refreshing and seemed easy enough an assignment, one that would require little stress. Optimus searched his desk drawers and found an unused pad and made a note of things to do-one of them to contact Paul for an update.

Prime set the pad in one of the upper drawers so he'd find it easily but upon opening the top drawer, he discovered a circuit board: an Autobot circuit board.

He almost could not breathe. He knew who that belonged to.

"Oh no . . ." His lasercore vibrated hard and Prime nearly choked. He abandoned his office, carrying the board tightly as he raced upstairs, dashing several flights to the garden.

Or what was once the garden.

War was brought here.

Dead, frozen and unwatered plants drooped in sad brown colors. Some plants were partially burned. Their dark forms stared at him accusingly. Shattered pots, dirt, fertilizer and bent tools littered the ground everywhere he looked. Even the windows around the garden had cracks or lay in shards along the metal floor.

But for every six or eight plants that died or were killed, there was at least one plant that survived in the cold Oregon air. But their survival did little to lift Optimus' sunken spirit. Toward the work bench dangled a cage. Human-sized furniture cluttered its interior. A tiny drawing pad and pencils lay on it bottom. Nearby stood several larger pots and below those lay the alien trees Optimus imported from other planets. In their places were the remains of an Autobot, long since murdered and dismantled. His right arm stood upright in one planter. Three fingers were absent, broken off in a fight.

What had he done?

Optimus slowly sank to his knees.

That was one of his own. He no longer saw his surroundings. His whole world shrunk down to just he and the circuit board between his hands. Horrible guilt flooded his soul and Optimus stared at the board until his sight blurred. He bowed over.

Hosehead was only doing his job. He paid the price . . . Lug paid the price. They were innocent, just like all the dead plants.

And the fluffy duffy.

And now Optimus knew the truth, the horrible, horrible truth.

He dropped Rusti.

Here he tried so hard to convince Rodimus to stay alive and now, once again, he no longer wanted to live.

Drops of water splattered his hands. Cold wet tracks trailed over his face plate as more drops fell and splashed his hands.

Lie down and die. Shut down. Black out. Terminate.

Rusti!

He couldn't breathe. Energon flow stopped and his lasercore vibrated more strongly, but skipped a time or two.

Oh, please stop moving! Please cease functioning!

Optimus slowly lowered his frame to the floor, clutching the one piece of Hosehead between his hands.

Forgive . . . forgive . . .

But no one could, now. No one should.

Footfalls echoed from the stairway and passed through the door. Optimus no longer cared. He must be executed.

Magnus finally found Prime in the one place he should have checked first. Optimus lay on the floor, heaving silent sighs. Optimus made no sound as he lay in a pool of water. The Major-General stole his way around broken plants and warped tools.

He spotted Hosehead's remains in the pottery and in Prime's hand and tried to think of something appropriate to say. Optimus knew full well a crime was committed, but Magnus knew it wasn't his fault.

But what could he say? This was not the situation for a pep-talk. This was not a soldier who simply failed to finish a training course and felt sorry for himself. This was a matter that needed to be addressed with a measure of sensitivity. But Magnus was at a loss for words.

So he stood for some time while Optimus did not move, did not acknowledge his presence. The sight was bitterly sad but it was worse for Magnus because had no words of encouragement. So he drew a single breath; and knelt where he stood: "Prime. Optimus, I do not know what you're feeling right now. I have no words to describe . . ." and even that line died because the Major-General simply had no vocabulary to keep going. His optics fell to the floor in resignation.

"She would have died . . . Magnus." Prime's words came so small, so soft even Magnus almost did not hear them. "I do not deserve this life given me. My life was over. It was supposed to be over and I'm brought back and-and . . . " his voice choked. His fingers curled into a weak fist.

Magnus turned away. Emotional anguish radiated from the Autobot leader and Magnus almost could not take the sight. "She's . . . Rusti's alright, now, Prime. She just can't remember a few things but in time-"

"Is that right?" Prime challenged. "Does that make it right? She is precious! You NEVER crush-" he choked again "-baby birds!" and brought his knees up tightly.

Magnus could not deal with this emotion any longer. He forced himself to crawl to the lifeless Autobot leader and helped Prime to a sitting position.

Optimus hung his head, ashamed. "You should have executed me, Magnus. There's no telling what will happen from here."

Magnus released Prime's arms and cupped his hands round his friend's face and stared optic to optic. Tears that should not be there, fell from the Autobot leader's optics. It was not a normal thing for a Transformer to actually weep like a Human, but Magnus' concern for Prime overrode curiosity. There were no words Magnus could use to describe the pain in Prime's optics. No, the Major-General thought, this was not the time to be stern. This was not the time for a good 'stop feeling sorry for yourself' talk. So Magnus embraced Optimus and silently prayed for a miracle.

-End

T.L. Arens


End file.
